


As Though She Were Mine

by Lucy_Luna



Series: Family Branches [14]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canonical Character Death, F/M, Family, Family Feels, Female Friendship, Friendship, Gen, Knockturn Alley, Original Character Death(s), Original Character-centric, POV Original Female Character, Second War with Voldemort, Sequel, The Golden Trio Era (Harry Potter)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-22
Updated: 2020-05-18
Packaged: 2021-02-28 01:14:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 40,585
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22841554
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lucy_Luna/pseuds/Lucy_Luna
Summary: When Calliope saw a child in the window of the flat above McHavelock’s Wizarding Headgear, the long, dull days spent alone in the Mulpepper’s home became a thing of the past.
Relationships: Original Female Character(s) & Original Female Character(s), Original Female Character(s) & Original Male Character(s), Original Female Character(s)/Original Male Character(s), Severus Snape/Original Female Character(s)
Series: Family Branches [14]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/952881
Kudos: 12





	1. A Mysterious Sight

"Germaine, what are you doing down here? Go back to the flat," ordered Mrs. Mulpepper when she caught sight of Calliope by the apothecary's selection of different creatures' tails. She had just finished helping her customer at the counter (she'd called him Mr. Farley and asked how his daughter was. He'd thanked her for asking and said she was well, if not stressed from work. The Ministry is hectic, with all the changes going into place. This had piqued Calliope's interest, what types of changes? Were they little, insidious ones? Or big and scary like the ones at Hogwarts right now?).

Calliope glowered at the old woman. She hated being called Germaine. Aggie. Jane too— Even if technically that one was her (middle) name. However, the Mulpeppers seemed quite insistent on calling her by the names of grand-nieces in public. Why, she didn't really know. They just kept saying it was safer people didn't know she was Calliope. She was quite sure it was because they feared people would realize she was Calliope Snape. Sev may have only worked for the Mulpeppers a handful of years, but many of their customers were life-long and would likely recall this and make some sort of connection, good or bad. While many things were kept from her these days, Calliope had been told about her dad killing Albus Dumbledore after it happened. And about the Death-Eaters in the castle then too.

She had thought that was why she'd been sent away last spring, to be out of the castle when those horrible, awful things happened.

Yet afterward, neither Edie or Sev had come to bring her home (she hadn't been sure if she should be relieved or upset not to see her dad. He'd murdered Professor Dumbledore. A well-loved, respected man to many, but to her was a kind Great-Uncle figure who always had a sweet and encouraging word for her when she saw him and occasionally would spend an afternoon or two with her over the summer and winter holidays). None of her family had come to see her since September dawned either.

Over the summer, Eileen and Essie had visited a few times. Edie twice as well, once when Calliope caught a summer cold and another time with her sisters. There was also one visit late in the summer Essie had spent the night, which Calliope liked, but it'd left her frustrated too. When they went to bed and she tried to ask her questions about what had happened and was happening, Essie had kept all the secrets she knew tightly locked behind smiling teeth and deflections. Calliope had felt more like she was talking to Eileen or Edie and for Essie's evasiveness, she refused to say goodbye the next morning when her sister left.

Calliope regretted it now. She was feeling quite lonely without any of her family near and the scant letters she'd gotten weren't helping either. They were all so short and dull, talking about stupid things like what they'd eaten that day or some uninteresting fact learned in Ancient Runes. At least she could exchange letters regularly with them, she mused. With Darla in hiding, she'd only gotten to trade a couple of letters with her since last spring and each time she received one, had to ash right after instead of keeping it to read when she was missing her.

"Germaine!" Mrs. Mulpepper snapped again.

Calliope lowered her eyes to her toes. "I'm bored," she said.

The old woman sighed. "If you behave yourself and go back to the flat, this evening, once Uncle Eugene is back from the other apothecary for the day we may go to the bookstore and you can pick out something new to read. How does that sound, hm?"

That was another change, the Mulpeppers calling themselves Uncle Eugene and Aunt Maisie. Calliope actually quite liked it. She felt special being able to call them such familial names while her sisters and Darla still referred to them by Mr. and Mrs. Mulpepper. "Okay," she agreed.

Calliope wasn't actually that excited by the offer of another book. She never much cared for reading. She liked being outside. Calliope had spent quite a lot of time in the herbology greenhouses when Professor Sprout was around or Sev could take her back at Hogwarts. She'd also visited with Hagrid frequently and enjoyed his varied beasts. Being here? In the middle of Knockturn? Never allowed outside on her own? It was torture. This meant even she had to acknowledge a trip to a bookstore was better than another evening staring at the fire in the Mulpepper's lounge room as they went over the accounts from the day.

"Good girl," praised Mrs. Mulpepper with a smile.

Calliope did her best to smile back before turning around and going to the stairs that led to the flat. Dragging her feet as she went up the steps, she tried her best to focus on the trip to the bookstore and not yet another afternoon alone in the silent flat. Once inside, she closed the door behind her and deliberated whether she should spend it sprawled across the lounge room sofa or in the rocking chair in her borrowed room. It took her all of a minute to decide on her room. At least from there she could watch the going-ons of Knockturn which sometimes proved to be interesting. Last week she was almost entirely sure she saw some illegal potion or potion ingredient be exchanged between two wizards in front of the Betting Shop.

Walking across the lounge and into the small, square room she now called hers, Calliope ran her fingers across the pink and purple afghan laid out on her bed next to the door. She then went to pull the rocking chair from the corner of the room opposite her bed and place it in front of the window next to her armoire. Once finished, she pushed back the heavy olive-colored linen curtains hiding the window to reveal the world below. For the longest while, she simply tipped herself backward and forward as she watched life play out in front of her. Knockturn was not quite as busy a place as Diagon Alley, but she still saw plenty of witches and wizards walk past her window. They dipped into shops across from and next to the apothecary, and more than once people would stop to chat or exchange things within her sight.

A particular witch in a fuschia robe grabbed Calliope's attention when she stepped out of the hat shop across the street and all but bumped into a very fat wizard. The two stepped aside and fell into what looked like a deep conversation. Essie cast a considering glance to the sketchbook she has piled on the little table in front of the window before dismissing it altogether. She had none of Eileen's talent nor her patience. Even with interesting studies like the witch and the wizard in front of her she knew her picture would only do them a fraction of the justice they deserved. Instead, she amused herself by imagining what it was they were talking about and how they knew each other. Perhaps they were old lovers from Hogwarts? Maybe the fat wizard was only in town for a short time and they were catching up. That was a romantic thought. Or perhaps her husband and he were brothers and the witch was busy trying to convince him to come to dinner. She frowned, finding it a less pleasing imaging. As the pair grew boring, and her daydreams lost their appeal, Calliope cast her gaze elsewhere.

For a moment, she looked above the hat shop and to its own flat. Her eyes quickly became fixed there when she caught sight of a face in one of its windows. Studying it as its owner stared down, observing the witch and wizard as she had done previously, Calliope realized it was the face of a child. One about her age too, from the looks of it. She couldn't make out much more, but their face was particularly wide and had an overgrown fringe. Standing up, she pressed herself to the window and tried to take in more details.

Unfortunately, there was none she could make out. At one point, the child lifted their face. Seizing her chance, Calliope waved frantically, hoping to get some kind of greeting in return. Instead of waving back at her, the other child's jaw dropped, creating what might have been an expression of surprise or terror before it disappeared altogether. Calliope continued to stand in front of her room's window for a long time, hoping they would return or appear outside in front of the hat shop. They never did. Sighing in defeat, she sat back in her chair and reached for the sketchbook. She may never be as good as Eileen, but it was still something to do to fill the hours until the Mulpeppers finished work.

-o-O-o-

Slowly, Calliope looked from Mrs. Mulpepper to Mr. Mulpepper as they ate dinner together. The two were eating in silence, as was typical for them Calliope had found. It seemed they treated the meal as a time to restore themselves after a day of interacting with customers and employees. She tried her best to not ruin their routine and be relatively quiet herself during dinner. However, today she just couldn't. What she saw from her window was the most interesting thing she had experienced in weeks and maybe, if she asked the right way, the Mulpeppers would introduce her to the child and she'd finally have someone to pass the time with.

Putting down her fork, she asked, "Does the hat shop owner across the street have a child my age?"

"Hagar?" said Mrs. Mulpepper, frowning. "No dear, she doesn't," she answered. "Why do you ask?"

Calliope felt the little bit of hope that had been growing in her chest all afternoon start to deflate. "I thought I saw the face of someone, maybe about my age, in a window of her flat from my room today," she admitted.

"Your mind must be playing tricks, Calliope," replied Mrs. Mulpepper in a sympathetic tone. "Hagar has lived there alone since her son Emmett moved away in, oh, '93? '94?" she said, looking at Mr. Mulpepper for confirmation who then nodded.

Calliope knew the Mulpeppers would know who lived in the flat better than she, but surely there could be another explanation other than her lonely mind getting the better of her. "She doesn't have nieces or nephews or anyone who might visit?" she pressed.

"No," Mr. Mulpepper said. "She was her father's, Mr. McHavelok's, only child."

Calliope pursed her lips and thought hard. "…A mate's?" she inquired after a pause. That could explain why the child would be looking out the window too, she thought. Calliope was willing to wager the hat shop owner's flat was no more interesting than the Mulpeppers.

Mrs. Mulpepper sighed. "Hagar Whittaker is a shrewd businesswoman and McHavelok's Wizarding Headgear has thrived more under her hand than it ever did her father's, but she is not…" she trailed off, an uncomfortable expression coming to settle on her features.

"She's sour, Calliope," Mr. Mulpepper said, picking up where his wife left off. His gaze was trained on hers as he explained, "Hagar does not have any close mates and isn't interested in them. Believe me, dear girl, we've tried a few times in the decade and a half she has been living here to get to know her, but she has always turned her nose up at offers of tea or just friendly small talk." He looked away then, a distant, but fond note coming to his tone as he said, "Her son, though, I liked him. Reminded me a bit of his grandfather, the last Mchavelok. Old Euan would sell us hats at a discount and we would do the same with pre-made potions." Waving his fork in the air for emphasis, Mr. Mulpepper told Calliope, "He knew how to be neighborly. His grandson Emmett was like that. He would come in now and then during his breaks, ask how business was, and restock his potions kit for school through us."

Calliope seized this new information and began to try and find a new theory to explain the face in the window. A son who graduated almost five years ago was too young to have a child around her age, but he could have a mate or girlfriend with a sibling her age. The girlfriend or mate could have brought them along when visiting with Emmett and his mother. "Emmett Whittaker… He might have been in Darla's year or the one before, huh?" she mused.

"Yes, I suppose he would have been," agreed Mrs. Mulpepper.

"Does he come home often?" she pressed. "Maybe with a girlfriend and her little sibling?"

"I haven't seen him once in Knockturn since he came of age," answered Mr. Mulpepper, looking a little put-out. "I reckon his mother's disposition doesn't encourage visits," he said.

Calliope felt the last of her hope shatter. It seemed there really was no possibility there could have been another child in the hat maker's flat. She hated it, but it seemed Calliope had to concede to the Mulpeppers. "I guess it was a trick of my eyes," she said with a small, disappointed sigh.

"Unfortunately, dear girl," Mr. Mulpepper replied, reaching across the table to give her arm a comforting squeeze.

"Now, finish your turnips and we can go to the bookstore," said Mrs. Mulpepper once her husband went back to his own dinner.

Calliope picked up her fork. "Yes, Aunt Maisie," she grumbled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A new addition for the Family Branches series :) Just to make sure everything is clear, this story will focus on Calliope. As you've probably gathered already, it's set a short time after This Song, It Spells Disaster.
> 
> Thank you for reading and let me know your thoughts with a comment and/or kudo!


	2. A Letter from Darla

“Calliope! You have a letter, dear,” Mrs. Mulpepper called as she walked out of the lounge room’s hearth. Calliope, from where she was laid out on the room’s sofa reading her new book, sat up. Putting it aside, she popped up from the sofa and walked over to the old woman where she was draping her robe and hat on the chair of the desk kept beside the fireplace. Bouncing in place as she waited with open hands for the letter, she asked, “It’s from Darla, isn’t it?”

Mrs. Mulpepper only smiled at her. “You shall see, won’t you?” she teased as she placed the sealed parchment in Calliope’s palms.

Clutching it in her fingers a brief moment, she laughed. “It’s her seal!” she said, delighted, before breaking it apart and opening the letter to read the contents. It said:

_Dear Calliope,_

_I hope my letter finds you well. Are you still bored to tears? I must say I’m not much better off these days. At least if you whinge enough, I have no doubt our lovely Mulpeppers will find some type of outing to take you on._

_I have no one to whinge to and no way to leave my temporary home. It’s rather odd, but I spent time in a safe house during the first war and I don’t recall it being this boring! I have to believe it is because I have forgotten or staying stuck in a house and its garden is not as dull when you are small and have not yet experienced the larger world. What do you think, Calliope? Have my memories faded or do you believe being stuck in a house is not so bad when you’re small?_

_Though, I must confess I don’t know how interested I would be in going out if I were given the option right now. I tire out rather easily at the moment. Not that you need to worry! I should soon be right as rain. Perhaps once I am a visit can even be arranged with you. How would you like that, Calliope?_

_Yours,_

_Darla_

“I’m done reading the letter,” Calliope told Mrs. Mulpepper, handing it off to the old woman. She felt happy to have received the letter and by its content, but sad as she watched Mrs. Mulpepper take out her wand, incinerate the letter with a murmur and then disappear the ashes with a vanishing spell. After its gone, she says, “Darla mentioned a visit between us might soon be able to be arranged. How soon do you think she means?”

Mrs. Mulpepper pursed her lips at this. To Calliope, it looked like the old woman was unhappy with this announcement. “Oh, I can’t say,” she replied. “Certainly not very soon. If things go well for Darla, I _might_ believe in a month or so you two could spend an afternoon together.”

Calliope felt dismayed at this hypothesis. She had been hoping in a couple of weeks she could see her aunt. A month or more seemed like forever from now. “That long?” she whined. “That’s not soon at all!”

Mrs. Mulpepper sighed and reached forward to cup Calliope’s face in her hands and wipe the tears that were spilling unwanted from her eyes. “I know,” she soothed. “I know.”

“And what does ‘if things go well for Darla’ mean? She mentioned she’d been tired lately too in her letter, but told me not to worry because she’d be better before I know it.” Suppressing a sob she felt blooming in her chest, Calliope cried, “N-No one tells me a-anything anymore!”

“Oh, oh,” Mrs. Mulpepper murmured as her hands fell away from Calliope’s cheeks to only come and settle on her back where they urged her forward and into the old woman’s soft chest. “I know this is all very hard for you,” she soothed. “But what’s not said is only for your safety.”

“Then why does she say anything at all!” yelled Calliope.

Mrs. Mulpepper made a sad, apologetic noise. “I’m sorry,” she said.

Suddenly very cross with no one and everyone, Calliope pushed away from the arms that held her and spat, “You are not! Or you’d tell me! I know you know! Everyone knows _but_ me!”

“Calliope!” Mrs. Mulpepper said in a wounded tone.

She didn’t care though. Instead, Calliope knocked a pile of parchment and miscellaneous items off the desk next to them before she ran to her room. She heard Mrs. Mulpepper start to follow so she then slammed and locked her door. A moment later, the doorknob rattled and Mrs. Mulpepper called, “Calliope!”

“Leave me alone!” she screamed back. “I don’t want _you_!”

There was silence on the other side for a minute as Calliope continued to cry next to her door. “Okay,” said Mrs. Mulpepper in a slightly elevated voice to be heard over Calliope’s sobs. “I will be… Out here when you do.”

Calliope just screamed in response, furious at the implication she’d _ever_ want Mrs. Mulpepper. The old woman said nothing else and after a few minutes, Calliope had to believe that meant she’d gone back to the lounge room, leaving her alone. Throwing herself onto her bed then, Calliope wrapped herself around her pillow and wept into it until she fell asleep.

-o-O-o-

When Calliope next opened her eyes, her room was dark. So dark she knew it had to be the middle of the night. It confused her why she was awake. Sitting up in her bed, she realized that there was a light shining almost directly into her room. Calliope frowned. How could that be? She wasn’t on the ground floor. Getting up from her bed, she scrubbed at her itchy, worn-out eyes and walked over to her window. The curtains were still drawn back from the morning. Looking out, she saw there was a light, probably a candle, shining in the other window. Squinting, she looked past the candle and saw behind it was a face. The child’s face she’d seen last week. 

Calliope covered her mouth with her hands. She hadn’t been imagining! There _was_ a child in the flat above McHavelock’s! This caused a frown to pull downward on her lips. But… What were they still doing there a week later? The Mulpeppers said the woman who owned the shop had only a son and no siblings, so, therefore, no nieces or nephews. Who could this other child be then? And why were they awake in the flat now? Or shining a candle in the window? Calliope considered going to turn on a light but thought better of it. She didn’t want to scare them off again. At least not before she tried to communicate with them. Walking over to the rocking chair in the corner of her room, she sat down and considered what to do. How could she talk to this child? Opening her window and yelling out would be a poor idea. That would wake people and draw attention Calliope doubted her or the child particularly wanted. Maybe…

She looked to the sketchbook on the table in front of her window. Getting up, she went and flipped it open to a fresh page. Reaching for a thick piece of charcoal, she wrote on the page in large, dark letters:

“‘Lo! I’m Calliope.”

She then tore the page from the book and with a glance at the window to make sure the child was still behind the candle, crept out of her room and picked up a candle the Mulpeppers kept in the lounge room and brought it back to her own with a pack of matches from the kitchen. Pressing her message to the window with one arm, she used her free hand to strike the match and light the candle. Calliope lifted her gaze then to stare out over her message and into the other window. To her relief, the candle there continued to burn brightly. However, the face was gone.

She started to dismay, thinking she had scared them off for a second time. But then something came in front of the candle and she realized it was a message like her own. She grinned, delighted. Leaning forward, she read their message. It said:

“Hi. I’m Sammy.”

She mulled this name over. It could be the name of a girl _or_ a boy. Calliope hoped it was a girl like herself. She loved all the boys in her life, her Sev, Harry, Mr. Mulpepper, Professor Dumbledore, Stephen, and George, but it was the girls she missed so keenly these days. Bringing her message down, she wrote a new one in her sketchbook and tore it out to hold up like the last one. It said:

“Nice! Meet downstairs?”

Calliope knew that was probably a bad idea. Knockturn Alley wasn’t a place for children to wander during the day. At night? Well. If they were swept up the moment they put a toe outside she wouldn’t be surprised. Yet… She had to at least _ask_. She wanted to see this Sammy. She wanted to speak with them, learn who they were, how they came to be staying above the hat shop. Most of all, she wanted to know if they would be her mate.

Sammy’s first message disappeared and a new one replaced it.

“Can’t,” it said, “Tomorrow? At One?”

Calliope laughed, breathless. Letting her old message flutter to the ground, she wrote a new one. It read:

“Yes!!!”

The message Sammy was holding up disappeared and their face appeared next to the light. If Calliope squinted, she could just make out them waving before the candle went out altogether. Calliope let her last message fall down and blew out her own candle. Going back to her bed, she pulled back the duvet and crawled beneath. She didn’t know how yet, but she was going to sneak outside and meet Sammy. How she’d know it was them, well… The fringe should be a good way to spot them, right?

Oh, she hoped they’d sort of recognize her too when she went out to meet them. Closing her eyes and turning onto her side, she frowned to herself. She would have to apologize to Mrs. Mulpepper at breakfast in the morning too. She’d been terribly cruel after she brought her Darla’s letter. It wasn’t the poor old woman’s fault everyone was so tight-lipped with Calliope (even if she was sort of condoning it by not saying anything herself). Sev and Edie would be very cross if they heard about what she said and did. The Mulpeppers were doing a very, very big favor allowing Calliope to stay with them and watching over her too. With this thought in mind, she began to think of different ways to apologize until she was asleep once again.

-o-O-o-

The next time Calliope woke it was daylight. Laying in her bed, she recalled the night before and the short conversation she exchanged with Sammy across the street. Sitting up and suppressing a yawn, she hoped it hadn’t been a dream. When she swung her legs over the edge of her bed and stood up, she glanced over to her window and saw the lounge room’s candle was on the table and her messages were scattered around the floor. Calliope grinned. It’d been _real_.

Walking over, she cleaned up the mess she’d made lest it was found by the Mulpeppers later. Picking up the candle, she deliberated whether she should take it out with her or leave it. In the end, she put it back down. She would return it after the Mulpeppers had gone to work. Hopefully, they hadn’t noticed it was missing already. Looking down on her rumpled clothes from the day before, Calliope wrinkled her nose and made the choice to change into something new and then fix her hair in the room’s mirror. When she finished, she walked out and down the short corridor into the kitchen. There, she saw Mrs. and Mr. Mulpepper sitting at the room’s little table sharing tea and porridge between them.

She fidgeted with the hem of her sweater in the doorway, uncertain of what to do. Mr. Mulpepper cleared his throat and she looked at him. He had his paper held up high, blocking his face from Mrs. Mulpepper, but not her. He made an exaggerated gesture with his eyes to his wife and Calliope sighed. She knew what the old man was telling her to do and she agreed. Saying sorry was the first thing that had to be done this morning.

Feeling unusually timid, she called, “Aunt Maisie?”

The woman looked from where she was stirring a lump of sugar into her tea and to Calliope. “Yes, Calliope?” she said in an uncomfortably neutral tone.

Calliope turned her gaze to her stocking-covered toes and said, “I’m sorry. I said _a lot_ of cross things I didn’t mean to you yesterday. I’m just really upset I can’t see anybody and that’s not your fault and it was bad of me to be such a baby and yell at you like it was.”

There was a silence that dragged on so long that Calliope couldn’t resist looking up after a while. Mrs. Mulpepper looked a little teary-eyed, but she was smiling at her. “All is forgiven,” she said. “Would you like a hug before I get your breakfast?”

Calliope nodded. When the old woman opened her arms, she sprinted over to throw herself in them. “Thank you, Aunt Maisie,” she mumbled into her front. “You’re the best aunt anyone could ask for.”

The old woman chuckled and ran a hand over the top of Calliope’s head before she let her go. “I appreciate that, dear,” she said. “Don’t ever say that in front of Darla, though, understand?” she teased.

Calliope grinned back at the woman and laughed. “Of course,” she agreed. Taking her usual seat in the open chair between the couples’ seats, Calliope turned to Mr. Mulpepper and asked him, “Is there anything interesting today, Uncle Eugene?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How do you feel about this chapter? Darla's letter to Calliope?
> 
> Thank you for reading and please let me know what you think with a comment and/or kudo!


	3. Disappointment and a New Understanding

Five minutes before the clock struck one, Calliope went to the flat’s door. Picking her shoes up from the floor, she held them tight against her chest and left the flat. Walking down the stairs as quietly as she could, Calliope reached the last step without incident. Sitting down on it, Calliope tugged the scuffed brown leather of her bar shoes over her stocking covered feet. Heart hammering in her chest as she stood back up and went to open the door that separated the stairwell to the flat from the apothecary, Calliope crossed her fingers.

Hopefully, Mrs. Mulpepper wouldn’t see her come out. Opening it just a little, she peered into the shop. Her heartbeat slowed when she saw Mrs. Mulpepper was talking to a tall witch over by the selection of vials Mulpepper’s sold. Hurriedly, Calliope opened the door as much as she dared and all but ran for the shop’s door. She held her breath as she looked over her shoulder to see if Mrs. Mulpepper was still distracted. Thankfully, she was. The old woman appeared to be explaining the difference in crystal vials from glass ones to the attentive witch at her side. 

Easing the door open, Calliope stepped outside. Quickly, she darted away from the door and the display window beside it and around the building’s corner. There, she was just out of view of Mrs. Mulpepper, but still easily in view of McHavelock’s Wizarding Headgear. She placed a calming hand to her chest and waited for her blood to stop thumping in her ears. This was her first time alone outside ever.

Looking forward to the street, she took in the people walking past with interest. None spared Calliope more than a passing glance (or a leer in the case of one scraggly-bearded wizard). The only children she saw was one little boy holding hands with a witch as they strolled past her onto some unknown destination and a pair of teenage girls (Essie’s age, she’d wager) who looked to Calliope like they ought to be at Hogwarts, but weren’t. She pulled a face when she saw them stop in front of the Betting Shop diagonal from the Mulpepper’s Apothecary and start fluttering their eyes at every man who passed by them. What in Merlin’s name were they doing? She shook her head. It didn’t matter. She was looking for _Sammy_. 

For the longest time, she stared at the tall, narrow building that housed McHavelock’s Headgear and the flat above it. She felt the hope and excitement that had been bubbling inside her all morning start to fade. The child she’d seen in the window wasn’t showing themself and Calliope knew if she went inside the apothecary and looked at the clock behind the counter it would read as almost a quarter after. Calliope counted to a hundred. Then two. Finally, three hundred before she sighed and made the decision to give up.

Glancing up at the window she’d seen the child’s face in, she saw it was empty and felt worse. They probably never meant to come and meet her. They’d just invited her down to see if Calliope would. Probably because they thought she would get in trouble for it and they could have a laugh at her being scolded. Balling her hands into fists, Calliope went back inside the apothecary. 

Luckily for her, Mrs. Mulpepper had her back to the door. She was busily wrapping the vials the witch she’d been helping decided to buy. The witch saw her, though, and smiled. She was maybe middle-aged and her brown eyes wrinkled at the corners as she said, “Why, hello. Who are you, little girl?”

Mrs. Mulpepper paused in her wrapping to turn around. Calliope stood stock-still, watching the old woman for her reaction. She was not exactly scowling, but she was also very not pleased. “This is my grand-niece. Aggie, I’ve told you before, you’re supposed to stay in the flat while Uncle Eugene and I are working.”

“I know,” she said. “I’m sorry,” she added, mind spinning for a question to ask, something to explain why she was disobeying. “I just wanted to come and ask what we’re having for dinner tonight.” 

Mrs. Mulpepper’s stare didn’t soften and Calliope looked to her toes.

“I want pudding,” she whispered.

The old woman sighed. “We can discuss it later, Aggie,” she replied. “Go back upstairs now.”

She nodded before running for the stairwell to the flat. Behind her, she could hear the witch who’d been buying the vials say, “What a pretty little niece you have. Is she staying with you long?”

“It’s hard to say,” she heard Mrs. Mulpepper answer. “Her parents are going through a rough patch…”

She gritted her teeth. Calliope didn’t want to hear the lies. They were as bad as all of the hidden truths as far as she was concerned. Uncaring of her volume, she stomped up the steps and into the flat, slamming the door behind her. Calliope knew she would be in for a scolding when Mrs. Mulpepper came up, but she didn’t care. She was just so _furious_. How could Sammy have done that to her? Why did she ever believe the other child when they agreed to meet? How could Calliope have been so stupid? Throwing herself on the lounge room’s sofa, she buried her face in the cushions and shouted her anger into them. She _hated_ everything!

-o-O-o-

Calliope looked up from the book she had propped on her knees when the door to the Mulpepper’s flat opened. She frowned and glanced at the lounge room’s clock. It was only three in the afternoon. The apothecary wasn’t due to close for another three hours. When she looked back at the old woman, she saw she was wearing a very grim expression. “Calliope, we need to talk,” she said as she crossed the room to sit on the other end of the sofa from her.

“Aunt Maisie? Isn’t it still business hours?” she asked as the woman smoothed out her baroque-patterned skirt.

“Yes,” answered Mrs. Mulpepper in a clipped tone. Eyes now trained on Calliope, she told her, “I had Elijah pause his brewing to mind the front of the store a little while.”

This made Calliope frown. She’d heard Mrs. Mulpepper grumble more than once over her stay about how she wished he would learn to be a little less critical of others as it made it hard to leave him in the shop’s front alone to handle customers. “He’s not very good with people, though?” she said in a hesitant tone. “That’s what you’ve said.”

She sighed. “He _isn’t_.”

Calliope put down her book and scooted closer to the old woman. “Is what we have to talk about that important?” she asked.

“I believe it is, dear,” Mrs. Mulpepper answered, eyes gentling around the edges.

That was a good sign Calliope thought. It meant even if Calliope had done something wrong (well, more wrong than she already had), the scolding wouldn’t be scathing. “Okay,” she said.

Mrs. Mulpepper reached over and pulled her against her side. She decided to allow it and began to hope that whatever they were going to talk about wasn’t bad news. “Calliope, you don’t seem to truly grasp how important it is you stay up here,” said Mrs. Mulpepper as she began to stroke Calliope’s hair.

She tilted her head upward to look at the old woman and mumbled, “I said I was sorry…”

“You did, but it’s not enough,” Mrs. Mulpepper replied, stopping in her ministrations. “That customer I was with? Her name is Mrs. Fawcett,” she told Calliope. “Thankfully, Mrs. Fawcett is older than your father by almost a decade and I reckon she’s never been seriously acquainted with him before. Her son and daughter were both Ravenclaws. Now, here’s the important part to understand, Calliope, that will not always be the case. _Some_ of our customers will know your father. They were his students or classmates and that means they could recognize you as his child from being a student or by seeing some of your father in you—”

Calliope decided to cut in then. Maybe they’d recognize her from around Hogwarts, but she really didn’t look a whole lot like Sev. Even if they did share a nose. “—Edie says I don’t really take after him,” she said, “I look a lot like Darla and kind of like Edie—”

“—Nevertheless, someone is bound to recognize you,” Mrs. Mulpepper declared, speaking louder to drown out Calliope’s protests. “That could end quite badly. There are some people who are not happy with your father, which I’m sure you can understand. If they see and recognize you, they may target you. They could hurt you or worse.”

Calliope crossed her arms. She didn’t quite believe Mrs. Mulpepper. “If that’s _really_ what you’re worried about, why do you take me out in the evenings sometimes?” she questioned, narrowing her eyes at the woman in her doubt.

Mrs. Mulpepper gave her a small, sad smile. “Asking you to stay out of the shop is us trying to _negate_ the risk, dear,” she explained. “We realize we can’t end it entirely, no matter how much we may wish to. At least if we’re just taking you places on occasion during the evenings and you are recognized, no one is going to immediately think you’re staying with us. Even before everything went bottom-side up, you and your sisters often would visit us during our time off. It looks like things are relatively normal if we go out together. I know your parents appreciate us trying to keep up appearances as well. The way things are right now…” she trailed off, a troubled furrow coming between her brows. “It’s a good thing.”

“You want me to stay up here for my safety?” repeated Calliope slowly, trying to grasp this new idea. It did make sense sort of to her. 

“Yes, dear, that’s why,” Mrs. Mulpepper said.

She looked to her lap and admitted, “I thought you just didn’t want me bothering you while you were working.”

“No, Calliope, if we could, I would _love_ to have you in the shop with me,” enthused Mrs. Mulpepper, her hands once again running through Calliope’s hair. “I’m sure you could be quite the help! Checking our ingredients to make sure they haven’t expired, manning the counter for me, charming customers…”

She grinned up at the old woman. “I would do all of that really well,” she said, certain in her abilities to manage the tasks Mrs. Mulpepper had listed.

“I know,” Mrs. Mulpepper replied warmly.

“Okay, Aunt Maisie. I will stay in the flat unless it’s _really_ an emergency,” she promised.

Mrs. Mulpepper hugged her. “Thank you, Calliope.”

-o-O-o-

Reaching the end of her book, Calliope closed it. She’d liked it, but she was also disappointed it ended on the wizard character planning to propose to his girlfriend instead of on him having proposed to her. Looking up, she saw Mrs. Mulpepper was dozing on her end of the sofa, the embroidery she’d been working on laying in her lap. 

Mr. Mulpepper, from his armchair next to the sofa, glanced at her as he turned a page in the potions magazine he was reading. “Going to bed, my girl?” he asked

“Yes,” she said. Lifting her hand, she yawned into it. “I’m tired.”

He nodded. “See you in the morning,” he said.

“Thank you, Uncle Eugene,” Calliope said. Going over to the old man, she hugged him around the shoulders.

He patted her arm and she released him. Walking into her bedroom, Calliope went toward one of the room’s wall sconce and motioned at it, activating the lighting charm on it. Once the room was a dim yellow, Calliope began to hum to herself as she went and pulled her jimjams from the room’s armoire. As she pulled them out, she saw her curtains begin to light up and darken as if there was a light flashing outside. Briefly, Calliope was confused. Then she realized it must be Sammy from across the street. Annoyed, Calliope decided to ignore it and got dressed for bed.

However, after she turned her room’s light off, the flashing continued. She scowled at her window. It was even more bothersome now that her room was dark. Making a decision, she went and grabbed her sketchbook and wrote out a very angry “Stop!” and lit the candle she’d forgotten to put back from last night. Throwing back her curtains, she was going to hold up her message, but Sammy had beaten her to it and had one up themselves. It read:

Sorry!

Calliope frowned. Sorry for what? They had to be talking about today. As hope rose in her chest, her mind started to race. Had something happened earlier? Was that why they hadn’t shown up as they agreed? Oh, Calliope hoped Sammy was okay! She tore out her angry message and began to write, “What happened?” but Sammy’s apology disappeared and was replaced with a new message:

Couldn’t leave!

Calliope began to ponder this. Had Mrs. Whittaker stayed in today? Her shop looked open earlier, though. Calliope was going to finish and hold up her message, as it was just as relevant as it had been a minute ago, but again Sammy beat her to it yet again:

Invisible wall stopped me!

Calliope blinked at this. Invisible wall? What in Merlin’s name was _that_ supposed to mean? Throwing aside her old, incomplete message, Calliope wrote and presented to Sammy:

Invisible wall?  
A beat later, a series of new messages were shown to Calliope by Sammy:

Yes!

Her second one read:

Between flat door 

Followed by a third message:

And landing 

Her last message said:

to shop below

Calliope puzzled over this series of messages a few minutes. She didn’t know why Sammy was calling it an invisible wall. To her, it sounded like some kind of spell. A familiar spell, actually. Writing out a new message, Calliope asked Sammy:

Could it be an age line?

Sammy shortly replied with their own question:

What?

She rolled her eyes. Why was Sammy playing obtuse? Age-lines were perfectly normal to see all over the place! There had been one during the Triwizard Tournament around the cup to keep underage students from entering (not that it worked very well in the end for Harry) and she knew lots of families used them too. Mostly to keep young children away from dangerous things like stoves or cellar potions labs, but other things as well. For a brief moment, Calliope dropped her sign. Then, she put it back up for Sammy, emphasizing her original question.

In response, Sammy took down their “What?” for a half-second before holding it up again with an additional question mark. Calliope sighed. Putting down her sign, she wrote a new one. It asked:

Runes around door?

Sammy continued to hold up their “what??” sign.

Calliope nearly put out her candle. She was growing cross with Sammy. Was this kid really so bloody dumb they didn’t know what _runes_ were? Where in Merlin’s name had they grown up? The Muggle world? That thought gave Calliope a pause. Could Sammy have? Then what was she doing in the flat above McHavelock’s Wizarding Headgear? Hadn’t all Muggle-borns been forced on the run or into Azkaban? Extremely curious, but knowing better than to ask now, she decided to continue with her line of questions. Re-writing her inquiry so maybe Sammy could answer one way or another, she asked in a two-part message:

Funny letters?

Around doorway.

Sammy was quick to hold up a sign that said:

Yes!

Satisfied with the answer, Calliope made a choice. She would just have to go up to the flat. They could meet each other, her on one side of the doorway, Sammy on the other. Maybe they could figure out a way for Sammy to get out of the flat too with a bit of thought. Calliope knew some type of workaround must exist. She wrote a new message for Sammy:

I’ll come up tomorrow.

Sammy wrote back:

At one?

Calliope held up a sign that read:

Yes.

Sammy’s old message fell and they appeared in the candlelight, waving at Calliope. She put down her reply and returned the wave before blowing out the candle altogether. Sammy quickly did the same. As she got beneath her duvet, Calliope rolled onto her side and began to think. Her and Mrs. Mulpepper _just_ talked about how important it was Calliope stay in the flat. But… She had to go.

Not only was Sammy another child like her who she could befriend, but they were also a mystery she had to now solve. One visit would have to be okay. She’d learned from today. As long as she was really careful (even more than she was earlier), neither of the Mulpeppers would have to know. Calliope closed her eyes and breathed out. Yes, no one would ever have to know. She could do it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did you enjoy this chapter? Calliope and Mrs. Mulpepper together? Are you excited for her and Sammy to finally meet next chapter?
> 
> Thanks for reading and let me know your thoughts with a comment and/or kudo!


	4. Sammy

“Too close,” Calliope whispered to herself once she was outside of the apothecary. Today, Mr. Mulpepper was the one working in the Knockturn Alley location. He had been in the midst of doing inventory when she looked around the doorway that separated the stairs to the flat from the store. She had thought he’d been in the middle of counting bat wings, but once she was out on the apothecary floor, he’d turned away from the display and Calliope had to nearly sprint to hide behind a barrel of gillyweed.

Calliope had stayed there for almost five minutes, she reckoned, just waiting for Mr. Mulpepper’s footsteps to sound in the direction opposite of her. When he did move away, she’d looked around the barrel and saw he once again had his back to her. That time, Mr. Mulpepper had looked like he would be busy for a while. Doxy eggs were sold in very small amounts in little vials and, surprisingly, the Knockturn Alley apothecary had almost a whole shelf’s worth. Calliope had gotten back up then and hurried out the door.

Now outside, she stared over at McHavelock’s and considered how she was going to get upstairs to the flat above it. She didn’t know for certain, but Calliope believed the layout couldn’t be terribly different from the Mulpepper’s apothecary. The real test, however, would be getting to the stairs without Mrs. Whittaker or one of her employees noticing Calliope. 

Walking across the street to the shop, Calliope kept her head down. She didn’t want anyone looking at her too closely right now. The Mulpeppers were right people might want to hurt her to get back at Sev and if they recognized Calliope and saw she was all alone… She shivered. 

Once in front of McHavelock’s, she walked up to the display window and stared inside. It looked like other hat shops she’d been to. The walls were lined with shelves laden with hats and in the middle of the shop were tables showing off displays. There were also mirrors on the tables and full-length versions placed in a few spots for someone to peer at themselves and take in their whole outfit. Back in a corner of the shop, where there were a couple of chairs and a settee sofa, Calliope saw a middle-aged witch was fussing with a vase of flowers. 

Calliope hoped she was an employee and not Mrs. Whittaker. Going for the door, she opened it just a little as to not set off the chime hung in front of it and slipped into the store. Before she could be spotted by the witch, who was now placing the flowers down on a table between the chairs, Calliope dove beneath the tables displaying some of the store’s hats. There, Calliope stayed and watched as the witch walked around the shop. 

Soon, the witch paused by a shelf next to the counter and turned her back on Calliope. As she fussed with some wide-brimmed, brown hats with stubby-pointed tips, Calliope crawled out from beneath the tables and to the little waiting area. Upon reaching it, she went and hid behind the settee sofa and began to look for the way upstairs. Looking around, Calliope soon spotted a dark indigo curtain by the counter. She bit her lip. Did that lead upstairs or to the back of the shop? Perhaps both? Another look around the shop told Calliope there were no other possible doorways. It must lead to the back _and_ upstairs.

Calliope squeezed her eyes closed and sent out a silent prayer to the universe. Let there be no one behind that curtain. Let there be a set of stairs that would lead her to the flat and Sammy. Let her get there _safe_. Opening her eyes, Calliope looked one last time to the witch before she made her move. Army-crawling across the shop, she got behind the counter and pulled back the heavy fabric of the curtain slowly until there was a gap wide enough for her to sidle through. Once on the other side, Calliope pressed her clammy hands to her hot face and exhaled. She’d made it this far now. There was only a little further to go and she would finally meet Sammy. Calliope would learn who they were and why there were in this flat and become their mate.

And _then_ … 

Then Calliope would have to figure out a different way to meet with them because she could _not_ do this again. It was too dangerous. Maybe she could tell Sammy how to floo over to the Mulpeppers’ flat. Yes, that was what Calliope was going to do. Had to do. That way, she wouldn’t be putting herself at danger or risk being punished by the Mulpeppers for being continuously disobedient.

Removing her hands from her face, Calliope peered around her. She was in a narrow little hallway. A few steps ahead was another curtain on her right and on her left, a doorway without a curtain. Getting to her feet, she approached slowly and looked around the open doorway only to immediately turn away and run for the other, curtain covered doorway. Diving behind it without thought for what might be on the other side, Calliope held back a startled gasp.

“Gilda!” yelled a woman, possibly Mrs. Whittaker, on the other side of the curtain. “Gilda! Is the order for Goyle ready? He should be by for his hat any minute!”

“Yes, Mrs. Whittaker,” Calliope heard the other woman call back to the witch Calliope now knew for certain was Mrs. Whittaker. “It’s in the storeroom!” she said. 

For the first time, Calliope looked at the room around her. She did not hold back her gasp when she realized what room she was in. The room was the storeroom. It was filled with hats, different hat-making materials, boxes, and some mannequin heads. Realizing how much trouble she was in, Calliope stepped quickly to the other side of the curtain. Just in time too, because the half of she had just been stood in front of moved forward and Calliope saw the tip of Mrs. Whittaker’s boot step in. Heart threatening to jump from her chest, Calliope stepped back out of the room just as Mrs. Whittaker full went into the storeroom. Once back in the hallway, she raced for the open doorway, praying neither Mrs. Whittaker or the other witch, Gilda, took an interest in the noise her leather soles on the wooden floor. Now on the other side of the doorway, Calliope held her breath and waited.

The heels of Mrs. Whittaker’s boots were soon clicking on the same wood Calliope’s bar shoes had slapped. “I have it,” she told Gilda. “Did he say whether he would like it boxed or not?” she asked, voice becoming quieter as she walked further away from Calliope.

“I believe he was planning to wear it out, Mrs. Whittaker,” replied Gilda in a normal voice that Calliope had to strain her ears to hear from her spot on the other side of the threshold that led to a staircase upstairs.

Mrs. Whittaker murmured something in reply, but Calliope could not hear her. Wiping the sweat from her face with the sleeve of her robe, she decided that was a good thing. It meant she wouldn’t be coming back this way for a while. Nodding to herself, Calliope turned toward the staircase. She’d made it. She was going to meet Sammy now. She walked up the steps and reached the landing. To her right, was a cobalt blue door.

Taking a breath to calm herself down, Calliope walked over and gave it a firm, but not loud knock. After a beat, she knocked one more time. Another minute passed and Calliope began to wonder if she should try to knock a little louder. She had to have arrived late, she realized. Sammy could have given up waiting for her and gone to a room at the back of the flat. Thankfully, during her deliberations, the door opened and revealed a girl, no, revealed _Sammy_.

Calliope drank in the sight of her. She, in a lot of ways, looked nothing like Calliope. Where Calliope was fair, small, and brown-eyed, the same could not be said for Sammy. Her hair was brown like Calliope’s eyes, but a lighter shade, though not so much that it could be bleached blonde if she went on a long holiday someplace sunny. She was taller than Calliope too and a little soft around her middle and face. She also had a not quite knut-sized birthmark above her right eyebrow that was just visible beneath her fringe. Calliope may have felt a little bad for Sammy, but once you looked away from the birthmark, you landed on her eyes and Sammy’s were the prettiest blue she’d ever seen. They were nearly aquamarine in color. Calliope could have stared even longer into them, but Sammy looked down and whispered:

“Hi.”

She blinked. “‘Lo,” she returned.

Looking up again, Sammy smiled, showing that she also had a lovely set of movie-star teeth in addition to her beautiful eyes. “I’m sorry I couldn’t meet you yesterday,” she said.

Calliope shook her head. “Don’t be,” she told the other (older?) girl. “There’s an age-line,” she explained, pointing at the very obvious runes etched into the frame of the doorway. “You can’t get past one of these easily.”

Sammy looked at the runes, a serious expression on her face. “Yes, I guess that’s so, isn’t it? I’m sorry I didn’t know there was such a thing.”

“Can I ask you a question?” Calliope asked Sammy, heart speeding up in her chest.

Sammy nodded. “Of course,” she answered.

She licked her lips and considered her words before deciding she just needed to be direct. “You’re a Muggle-born, right?”

A hesitancy came to Sammy’s features. “I–I guess?” she replied in an uncertain tone. “I really don’t know all of your peoples’ terms yet,” she admitted. “I didn’t even know I was a witch, or that my sister was before she took me from my mum and dad’s in the middle of the night back in June…”

“Your sister’s a witch?” Calliope said, mind spinning as she tried to figure out who Sammy could be related to. She knew a lot of people, though, mostly, the ones she knew by name had been mates with her sisters and Darla or a particularly troublesome student for Sev. “What’s her name?” she asked. 

“Amber,” Sammy answered. “Amber Vickers.”

Calliope felt an old, fuzzy memory start to clarify in her mind. She thought she actually recognized the name. “She… She played Quidditch, didn’t she?” asked Calliope. “I think I can almost recall Sev complaining because she stopped the Slytherins from winning the inter-house cup the year before—” She stopped. Now probably wasn’t a good time to mention that she’d lost one of her sisters. “ Well, she caused them to lose,” finished Calliope a little lamely.

Sammy’s eyes were back on her toes. “I don’t rightly know,” she answered. “I don’t know Amber very well, y’see. She’s my _half-_ sister,” explained Sammy. “She’s ten years older than me and I didn’t see her too much when I was little except for a couple of days between Christmas and New Year and two or three weeks in the summer.” Voice even lower, she confessed, “The last couple of years since she graduated from school, I haven’t seen her except for Christmas Eve and mine and my brother Alex’s birthdays. She tried to come to Dad’s birthday in April, but Mum wouldn’t let her in ‘cause she’d brought her boyfriend. Mum didn’t want a stranger at a family celebration.”

Calliope felt her brows furrow. She wasn’t unfamiliar with half-siblings, or different sorts of families. _Her_ family was a different sort, after all, but to know so little about someone who was a _sibling_ (or good as)? Well, that was odd for Calliope. As was turning family away at a birthday party. Unable to find anything better to say, Calliope replied, “Oh.”

Looking at Calliope again, this time with memories ghosting across her gaze, Sammy explained, “A few months ago, Dad woke me up in the middle of the night and had me pack my school bag with a couple of changes of clothes and other stuff I would want if I were spending a weekend at my grandpa’s. When I was done and came out of my room, he was in the kitchen with Amber and a bloke, no, her boyfriend, Emmett. Dad hugged me and kissed me and said I was going to go with Amber because I wasn’t safe staying with him, mum, and Alex anymore.”

Hand clenching at her side and voice trembling, she continued, “He said it’d only be for a little bit and I would be okay, but that’s not true! Amber and Emmett brought me here and Emmett told Mrs. Hagar if she didn’t keep me and hide me for them she would never see him again. So, she agreed, and Amber told me I would be fine here and she’d see me again as soon as they had a safer place to keep me and we’d be together until I could go home to Mum and Dad and Alex.” Tears falling down her cheeks, Sammy told a steadily more horrified Calliope, “It’s September now! I haven’t seen her again once and Mrs. Hagar hasn’t heard from either of them as far as I can tell either! Not that she ever says anything to me except for when she’s complaining about how much I eat!”

“I’m sorry, Sammy,” Calliope said and she tried to reach out to the other girl, but the age-line stopped her. Bringing her hand back against her chest, she pressed it to her hurting heart and whispered, “I think I know why they aren’t back.”

Sammy stared at Calliope, eyes wide and hopeful, but also deeply afraid. “You do?” she whispered.

Calliope nodded, feeling extremely guilty even though it wasn’t her fault. “Muggle-borns have and are being sent to Azkaban for stealing magic from Pureblood and Half-blood squibs. If your sister hasn’t been sent to prison already, she’s probably on the run. With Emmett, I reckon.”

The other girl’s face squished with confusion and affront. “I haven’t stolen any magic!”

“I know,” she replied. “It’s just the excuse the Ministry is using to get rid of witches and wizards like yourself. They think Muggle-borns are bad and destroying the wizarding world.”

“Why?” demanded Sammy.

Calliope shook her head. Honestly, she didn’t know. At least not well enough to explain to her new friend. “I don’t really understand it all myself,” she admitted to Sammy. Then, side-eyeing the girl, she asked, “How sure are you that you’re a witch like your sister? There’s this whole thing with Hogwarts acceptance letters and them being able to track your location down so you get it.”

Sammy scowled at her. “Very,” she answered. “Before… sometimes… things… happened,” she explained in a stilted way. “There was this girl, Amy Winn, who used to make fun of me at school for being, um, fat,” she whispered, blushing. “One time she was poking me in the stomach and talking loudly about how squishy I was to a couple of her mates and I really, really wished that she wasn’t so pretty and that people would have a laugh at her instead of me. All of a sudden, this boil appeared right on her nose and it wouldn’t go away for _weeks_ after. That whole time, people picked on her and _not_ me for once.”

Calliope processed this story and nodded. It _did_ sound just like a bit of accidental magic. “Did your sister or Emmett work for the Ministry? Maybe know some people who did? They could have done something to make sure your letter couldn’t find you,” she said.

Sammy gave a helpless shrug. “I don’t know,” she answered.

Squinting at the other girl, Calliope asked, “You’re sure neither of your parents is magic?”

Once again, Sammy scowled. “Yes!” she snapped. “If either were, it would have to be Dad, since he’s Amber’s dad too, and he’s not the least bit strange.”

“Being magic doesn’t make you strange,” Calliope countered.

The other girl scoffed and gestured at Calliope. “Yes it does!” she argued. “Look at your clothes? Who goes around in weirdly colored robes and pointy hats?”

Calliope looked down at her short, celery-green robe with its big, silver daisy-shaped rouleau buttons and then back at Sammy. “This is normal fashion for witches,” she told her. “Well, mostly. This might be a little out of style. It was my sister Eileen’s before it was mine.”

“If you walked around like that where I’m from people would think you’re a freak!” Sammy sneered, crossing her arms.

Calliope was feeling a lot less kindly about the girl in front of her than minutes before. No longer did she seem like a friend in the making. “Well, if you walked around wearing a shirt covered with the faces of other girls, people would think _you’re_ a freak here.”

This time, Sammy frowned down at herself. “They aren’t other girls, they’re the _Spice Girls_ ,” she said. “You know, the girl band?” At Calliope’s blank look, she said, “ _Wannabe_?”

“Wannabe, _what_?” asked Calliope.

Sammy shook her head. “ _So strange_ ,” she grumbled.

“I think I’m going to leave,” said Calliope, feeling rather put-out and insulted.

“No!” cried Sammy. “Please don’t,” she begged. “I’m sorry,” she added. “I’ve been really rude, haven’t I?” she said, looking sheepish.

“You have,” agreed Calliope. “It was really dangerous for me to come all the way up here,” she told her. “Knockturn Alley isn’t a safe place generally and I’ve been told not to leave the flat above the apothecary by the Mulpeppers.”

“What is an apothecary?” inquired Sammy, curious.

Calliope pretended to stir a cauldron as she answered, “A shop where you buy ingredients and supplies for potions.”

“Oh!” Sammy whispered, awed.

Calliope nodded. “I could probably show you a little brewing,” she said. “The Mulpeppers keep potions stuff in their flat and I know how to use it. My dad was the potions professor at Hogwarts all my life until last year.”

Sammy grinned. “I’d love that!” she exclaimed. However, her face quickly drooped. “But how?” she said. “I can’t get past this, what did you call it? Age-line.”

“I have an idea,” Calliope told Sammy. “You have a fireplace in there, don’t you?”

“Yes,” answered Sammy.

She smiled, feeling a little victorious. “So, usually, people keep a little pot or box on a table or shelf near their fireplace and in it is this powder. The powder is glittery and a bit greenish in color. You take a little handful of that and throw it into the fireplace and step into the green flames it makes and then call out your destination. In your case, you’ll want to say the Mulpeppers’ Knockturn Alley flat. If you want to be _very sure_ you end up at the Mulpeppers’ say Eugene or Maisie Mulpepper’s Knockturn Alley flat and it’ll take you to me.”

After she finished explaining, Sammy looked downright horrified. “You’re kidding!” she cried. “You lot don’t _really_ walk into flames, do you?”

“They’re magical,” said Calliope. “It’s safe.”

Sammy started to worry her lip. “I don’t know…” she mumbled.

Calliope put on her best, most confident smile. “It’s perfectly all right,” she swore. “You’ll see.”

Her friend still looked far from convinced. 

Thinking hard, Calliope said, hoping to persuade her once and for all, “This is the only way we’ll be able to brew a potion together.”

“What if Mrs. Hagar put an age-line around that too?” complained Sammy.

Calliope held back a sigh. “You put a message up in the window you couldn’t get into the fireplace and I’ll figure out a new plan.”

Slowly, Sammy nodded. “Okay,” she relented. “I’ll try it.”

“Brill!” exclaimed Calliope. “Since it’s now a little late, let’s have you give it a try tomorrow, okay? I’ll wait by the Mulpeppers’ fireplace tomorrow for you at one, okay?”

“Yes, okay,” agreed Sammy her face a pale color and sounding very reluctant.

Calliope didn’t let it deter her. “See you tomorrow then, Sammy,” she said to her mate. “I have to get back to the flat before Aunt Maisie or Uncle Eugene realize I’ve gone and disappeared.”

“Bye,” replied Sammy, waving. “It was nice meeting you in person.”

“You too!” Calliope said, waving back at the girl before going back toward the stairs. 

As she started down them, Sammy called, “Hey, Calliope!”

Calliope stopped and looked back at the other girl. “Yeah?”

“Travel safely, won’t you?” she told her.

A warm feeling settled over Calliope. “I will be,” she said, “I promise.”

Sammy nodded and closed the door. Returning her attention to the stairs in front of her Calliope started to tip-toe down them, mind already spinning as she plotted her escape from McHavelock’s shop and her way back into the Mulpeppers’ flat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> She's met Sammy! Thoughts on Sammy? Their first interactions in person?
> 
> Thank you for reading and please met know your thoughts with a comment and/or comment :)


	5. Good Days

Calliope screamed when green flames came to life in the Mulpeppers’ hearth. When a moment later Sammy tripped out of them, eyes huge and mouth gaping, Calliope sprung forward. “You did it!” she yelled into her friend’s ear, winding her arms tight around the taller girl’s neck. “You made it through!”

“I did!” agreed Sammy, wrapping her own arms around Calliope a brief moment before pulling away altogether. “It was soo frightening, Calliope!” she told her. Eyes bright with recollection, she said, “I had to close my eyes to force myself into the flames.”

Calliope laughed, amused at the image it brought to her mind’s eye. ‘Poor Sammy!’ she thought. Smiling, she said, “Going back to Mrs. Whittaker's should be easier at least.”

“I hope so!” said Sammy, exasperated.

Slipping her hand into Sammy’s, she tugged the other girl toward the flat’s kitchen. “I’ve got it all planned out for us, Sammy,” she explained. “I picked a pretty easy potion for us to do together. It’s a hair-raising potion, which isn’t very complicated and takes less than an hour to brew.”

A fretful pucker came to Sammy’s lips. “A hair-raising potion?” she echoed. “Is it scary?”

“No, not at all!” assure Calliope, shaking her head. “It’s actually rather silly. It’s like the name says,” she told her friend, “it causes your hair to rise up.” Then, more to herself than Sammy, she mused, “This isn’t a very useful potion, but it’ll be fun to play with for a little while before you have to leave.”

This last bit seemed to be exactly what Sammy needed to convince her, however. With a resolute nod, she said, “Okay, let’s try it.”

-O-

Their heads bent over the potion, Calliope stared into the gray-brown liquid and reviewed the steps for the potion in her mind. As a particularly large bubble surfaced and popped, she told Sammy, “This is when the rat tails go in.”

Her friend dipped her chin. “Here I go,” she murmured, picking up their little dish of prepared tails and pouring it into the potion. “There!” she said, satisfied, “it’s all in.”

“Well done!” praised Calliope as the potion took on the expected yellowish hue she knew it ought to be. “Now we just have to let it simmer ten minutes and then stir it clockwise three times before we can test it out,” she told Sammy.

Leaning back, Sammy clapped her hands. “Oh, I’m so excited!”

“Me too!” Calliope said as she picked up some of their stray, empty plates and bowls from the table to put into the sink for washing later.

Sammy, after sitting down in one of the kitchen chairs, picked up the potions book Calliope had used to find them the potion to brew. “Calliope, is it okay if I take this book with me today?” she asked as she thumbed through the pages. “I would like to look at the other potions we could brew someday.” She chuckled and commented, “It’ll be much more fun than reading the book I packed when I left home for the thirtieth time.”

Calliope felt her stomach do a flip. She wondered if this is how that comic had ended up in Eileen’s hand all those years ago. “I don’t know…” she said.

Sammy sounded truly miffed as she asked, “Why not?”

Calliope bit her lip. She knew there was no way she could hide all of the little bad bits of her past, but Calliope hadn’t thought she would ever have to reveal _this_ secret to someone. Especially since Sev made it very clear that they were never to mention they met Harry before he came to Hogwarts to anyone lest it get back to Professor Dumbledore. Now that the old man was gone, though… 

She sighed. There likely wasn’t any harm in it. She wouldn’t have to say Harry’s name now anyway. “When I was little,” she started, “my aunt snuck around, making friends with someone she shouldn’t have, and she brought us to meet him. My aunt’s mate gave my sister Eileen a comic to take home and read and then my dad found it and my aunt got discovered.” She chanced a look at Sammy to see how she was taking the story and felt a little buoyed by the small frown on her face. “And in a lot of trouble too,” finished Calliope.

Sammy put on what could only be described doe-eyes. “I’d be very careful, I swear,” she said. “I can keep it in my bag with my origami animals. Mrs. Hagar doesn’t go through my things.”

Calliope narrowed her eyes and crossed her arms “Never ever?” she demanded.

“Never ever,” assured Sammy. “It’s as I said, she only pays attention to me to complain at meal times about how expensive it is to feed a pig like myself,” she told Calliope, shoulders falling slightly.

She frowned. “That’s mean of her to say,” Calliope replied. “You’re…” she started only to trail off. She couldn’t say Sammy was _small_. She wasn’t and trying to be nice and say she was would just be patronizing. “Well, it would be wrong to say you aren’t larger,” Calliope said. “But you certainly cannot add _that_ much to her grocery bill!” she concluded, nose wrinkled with indignation.

“You would think so, wouldn’t you?” Sammy mumbled, a sad, pitying smile stretching across her face. “But she says I do.”

Calliope didn’t hesitate. “She’s lying,” she spat.

Sammy, eyes trained on the tabletop, whispered, “I hope so.”

Calliope felt her reservations fall away. She believed Sammy. The book would be just fine hidden among Sammy’s things. “You can take the book,” she said, “I trust you.” Placing the last of the dishes in the sink, she then went and opened the fridge and pulled out a couple of hard-boiled eggs. “You can have a couple of these too,” she told Sammy. “They’re some boiled eggs the Mulpeppers like to keep around for breakfast and snacks.” She smiled at her confused friend and explained, “This way, you can eat a little less at dinner and maybe Mrs. Whittaker won’t be quite so awful.”

Sammy’s eyes grew wide before she wrapped her fingers around the eggs. Tucking them away in the large pocket of her pullover jumper, she said, “Thank you, Calliope.”

She smiled at her. “What are mates for?”

“We’re friends?” said Sammy, seemingly surprised.

Calliope rolled her eyes. What a silly question. Of course the two of them were mates. “Yes!” she exclaimed.

“Thank you,” Sammy said, leaning in to hug her. “Thank you so, so much.”

“It’s no trouble, Sammy,” she replied, patting her friend’s back. “Now, let’s go try our potion! It should be done.”

Sammy let her go and looked around Calliope to their cauldron on the table. “How do we use it?” she asked.

Picking up their spoon, Calliope gave the potion the necessary stirs before she began to ladle a little onto her fingers. “You take a bit,” she explained, massaging the potion onto her arm, “and rub it on your hair to make it stand up.” Calliope thrust her arm under Sammy’s nose for her to see her now needle-straight hair. “See my arm?”

“Wow!” whispered Sammy, shocked. “That’s brilliant. How long does it last?” she questioned as she stood up to look into the cauldron.

Pouring a small amount into a vial, she told Sammy, “I adjusted our ingredients when I prepared it. So, it’s rather weak. It will only last about twenty minutes.”

Sammy made a grabbing motion for the newly poured potion. “That’s plenty of time,” she declared. When the potion was in her hands, she dipped her fingers into it one by one before running it through her fringe. She gave a startled, delighted giggle when her hair rose up. “Look at what it’s doing to my fringe!” she cried. Sighing happily, she asked, “Isn’t that just aces?”

Calliope nodded, satisfied to see the potion was working so well. “It really is!” she agreed. Then, laughing into her hand, she admitted to the other girl, “You look so silly, Sammy.”

Sammy grinned. “Your arms look like you have a wheat field sprouting on them,” she countered, reaching over to give the tiny, upright hairs a light poke.

Calliope lifted her arm and squinted at her hair. Her arm hair was about the right color, she had to admit. “They do a bit, don’t they?” she remarked. Looking away from her arm and at Sammy, she teased, “You’re fringe makes you look like one of those exotic birds you'd see in an encyclopedia.”

“Thanks!” replied the other girl, showing off her movie-star teeth with a proud grin. Wistfully, she sighed. “I wish we had a camera right now,” she said. “This would be a fun memory to have a photo of.”

“It would be!” enthused Calliope. Mind racing, she replied, “Perhaps I can snoop through some of the Mulpeppers things and find their camera.” Reaching over to give Sammy’s hand a squeeze, she offered, “We can take some secret pictures the next time we brew.”

“I love that idea,” replied Sammy, giving Calliope’s hand a return squeeze before letting her go altogether.

Sitting down in one of the table’s chairs, Calliope stretched her arms out on the table and said, “Oh, this has been so nice.” When Sammy continued to watch her with attentive eyes, Calliope explained, “I’ve really missed having another girl to talk to. Back at Hogwarts, my sisters and aunt were always coming through our quarters, so I never felt lonely. Having you here…” she trailed off, guilt pooling in her gut. Was it fair of her to say how she truly felt? The Mulpeppers were trying _so hard_ to be enough, but they weren’t. That wasn’t their fault, though, and it made Calliope feel naughty as she admitted, “I feel a bit better about having to stay with the Mulpeppers and not seeing Eileen or Essie.”

Chin in her hands and elbows on the table, Sammy asked, an odd light to her very blue eyes, “Are those your sisters?”

“Yes,” answered Calliope.

“I always wanted a full-blooded sister that lived with us all of the time,” Sammy confessed. “Maybe we wouldn’t have been the best of mates, but I think we’d have gotten along more than I and Alex do.”

Calliope blinked. She was pretty sure Alex was Sammy’s brother, though, she’d never really said outright. Either way, her heart panged for her friend. “What’s wrong with Alex?” she questioned.

“Nothing!” assured Sammy at Calliope’s alarmed tone. She brought a finger to her mouth and chewed her nail a moment. “He’s just a boy and very… boyish,” she explained. “He only wants to talk about footie and play his Nintendo in his room.”

She frowned. “What-o?”

“Nintendo!” Sammy repeated with a little bit of that sulkiness she’d the day before when Calliope didn’t know the Seasoning Girls. Seemingly catching herself, Sammy breathed in and out before she told her, “It’s a game system. You can play it with people or on your own.”

Calliope squinted her eyes and tapped her chin. That almost sounded familiar. As if Gail or Harry had mentioned such a game in passing before. “I… I think I’ve heard of that,” she replied slowly. “My mate Gail has mentioned a game system a couple of times before.”

This seemed to please Sammy as she smiled and said, boastful, “My grandpa pitched in to help Dad and Mum get it for my brother when it came out a few years ago. It was his Birthday and Christmas present that year!”

She blinked. No one got anything that expensive in the Snape household. Unless you were Darla as Eileen liked to say. Though, Edie always insisted that wasn’t true. She and Sev _may seem_ like they spent more on her, but really they were investing in _all_ of the girls. Sooner or later, just about everything of Darla’s became Eileen’s, then Essie’s, and finally, Calliope’s. “Whoa.”

“Yes,” agreed Sammy, completely misunderstanding Calliope. Putting a hand to her chest, she told her, “ _I_ wouldn’t have wanted just one toy for all of the holidays in a year. Alex did, though, and after he got it, he stopped wanting to do crafts with me.” Her pride fell away and a hint of sadness entered her tone. “We used to do origami and paper planes together. I’d fold little towns and things and he’d make planes to crash into them or fly over and it was fun. Now…”

“I don’t know what origami is,” admitted Calliope, hoping it would distract the other girl from her sorrow. “You’ve mentioned it a couple of times now.”

Sammy gasped. “You don’t?” she all but yelled. “It’s fun! You take pretty sheets of paper and fold it into nearly anything.” Lifting a hand, she began to list on her fingers, “Animals, hats, flowers, I’ve made boxes…”

“That sounds brill!” replied Calliope, tickled by the idea of turning a sheet of paper into something pretty just by folding it. “Will you teach me tomorrow when you come over? We only have parchment here, though, is that okay?”

“Yes, perfectly all right,” agreed Sammy. Then, tilting her head, she asked, “You have a way to cut it if we need to, though, don’t you?”

“Uh-huh,” she replied, nodding.

“Then that settles it,” decided Sammy with a clap of her hands. “Tomorrow we’ll do origami and discuss what the next potion we’ll brew will be.”

“Okay,” replied Calliope, pleased with the plans. She then pointed at Sammy’s hair, which was slowly floating back down toward the girl’s forehead. “Your fringe is falling,” she told her. “I think we should finish cleaning up and you ought to go back to Mrs. Whittaker’s now.” She glanced at the room’s clock. “It’s nearly four.”

“You’re right,” agreed Sammy, a small downward curve to her lips. “I’ll bottle the rest of this potion if that’s helpful?” she offered.

Calliope nodded. “That’s fine.” Turning toward the sink, she said, “I’ll wash up the dishes.”

-o-O-o-

“Calliope, would you come here, dear girl?” called Mrs. Mulpepper from the hallway. Putting down the book she was borrowing from Sammy (a story in a series about teenage twin sisters growing up in America), Calliope got up from her room’s rocking chair. 

Walking out of her room, she asked, “What is it, Aunt Maisie?” Hands on her hips, she questioned, “Do you need more help with dinner?”

“No, no,” assured Mrs. Mulpepper from the end of the hall, an odd smile on her face. “I just want you to come here.”

Shaking her head in exasperation, Calliope made the short walk to follow the old woman into the lounge room. She froze once in the doorway, mouth dropping open. “Edie?” she whispered at the sight of her mum, still dressed in her traveling robe and a hat.

“Hello, swee’,” she said, opening her arms to Calliope.

“Edie!” she cried, sprinting over to her. She wrapped her arms around her mum and breathed in the smell of laundry soap and the rosemary lotion Edie was fond of. “What are you doing here, Edie?” asked Calliope.

Her mum smiled down at her, eyes heavy with bags like she hadn’t gotten a good night's sleep. “Can’t I visit my daughter?” she teased.

Calliope puffed out her cheeks. “Yes!” she exclaimed, only to mumble, softer, “But…”

Edie sighed and let her go. “I had business out o’ the castle tha’ needed my attention,” she admitted.

That made more sense, but none at all too. Frowning, Calliope looked up at Edie and said, “You? Besides the Mulpeppers, who _else_ do you know that lives outside of Hogwarts?”

She looked away from Calliope “My cousin was ill an’ called me,” she said.

“…That’s what you’re telling people?” Calliope questioned after taking a minute to soak in her mum’s word. Edie rarely talked about her family. Certainly not enough for Calliope to know if she actually had cousins or not.

Her mum patted Calliope’s head. “I do have cousins, swee’,” she told her.

Calliope smoothed down the hair her mum had mused and remarked, “Then I guess it’s plausible, isn’t it?”

Her mum said nothing in reply to her comment and, instead, smiled at her. “Yer aunt sends her love,” she told Calliope.

“You saw Darla?” asked Calliope, bouncing on her feet. “Did she say when I would see her again?” she demanded, recalling the letter from a couple of weeks ago.

Edie’s smile turned a little strained. “Soon, I reckon,” she replied. Then, eyes flashing with secret amusement, added, “Perhaps with a lil’surprise fer yeh.”

“Really?” asked Calliope, excited. She wondered what her aunt might bring with her for Calliope. A book (as sick of them as she was, a gift from Darla was _always_ fun)? Or a treat? Perhaps a puzzle? Oh, she hoped it would be something like a puzzle that would keep her busy for hours after the visit.

“Yes,” replied Edie. Hand once again on Calliope’s head, though, the back of it this time, she suggested, “Now, why don’ yeh sit with me an’ tell me how yeh are?”

She nodded and let herself be guided to the sofa. “Okay!” she agreed as she sat down close enough to sink into her mum’s side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How did you enjoy Sammy and Calliope brewing together? Edie has made an appearance too! What's your favorite part?
> 
> Thanks for reading and please let me know your thoughts with a kudo/comment


	6. A Commotion in Knockturn Alley

Getting up from the kitchen table, Calliope picked up her plate and Mr. Mulpepper’s to take to the sink for future cleaning and putting away. As she placed them there to be dealt with after the old man finished his tea, Calliope caught sight of something interesting happening on the other side of the kitchen window’s lace curtains. Pushing them aside, she saw that there were people running and wizards and witches throwing spells every which way. “Uncle Eugene, come look!” she called to him, barely glancing away from the window for even a moment.

The old man placed his half-finished teacup down on the table. “What is it, Calliope?” he asked as he got up to join her.

Pointing down at the street once he was beside her, Calliope said, “Look what’s going on down there.” Squinting, Calliope made out past all the running people that by the Betting Shop there was a duel going on. She said as much to Mr. Mulpepper, “There’s a couple of wizards dueling a witch by the Betting Shop.”

Together, the two of them watched as a couple of more witches and wizards apparated onto the street and started to target some in the fleeing crowds. At this, Mr. Mulpepper went rigid. She turned her face toward him and said, “Uncle Eugene?”

“Calliope step away from the window this instant,” he told her.

She frowned. “What? Why?” she asked.

Eyes flashing, the old man ordered, “Calliope, now!” And when she still did not move, he grabbed her by the arm with a strong hand and yanked her back.

Stumbling over her own feet, Calliope just barely stopped herself from falling to the floor by grabbing onto a kitchen chair to steady herself. Too shocked to be hurt or cross, all she could do was whisper, “Okay…”

Mr. Mulpepper, now away from the window himself, appeared rather contrite about what he’d done. With the same hand that he’d yanked her with, he petted the top of her head before going into the lounge room and activating the floo. 

Following after, Calliope watched from the threshold between the rooms as the old man stuck his head in and called, “Hello!” There was a beat before he continued with, “Ah, Emily. Would you please call Mrs. Mulpepper to room for me?” The person,  _ Emily _ , on the other end of the floo call must have gone to get Mrs. Mulpepper as he began to tap his foot in impatience for a minute. When he spoke again, it was in a rush, “Maisie, dear, I want you to spend your lunch at the apothecary. There’s ah, a  _ commotion _ , going on by the Betting Shop.” There was another bout of silence followed by Mr. Mulpepper sighing. “Yes, yes, she’s fine,” he said and Calliope knew it was her he was talking about and Mrs. Mulpepper had asked after. “I have her here with me,” he told her before saying after a pause, “I love you. I promise as soon as one of these troublesome girls takes this business off our hands we’ll move to Bora Bora.” There were a couple of seconds of quiet then which Mr. Mulpepper followed up with a warm, “Goodbye.”

Once the old man had pulled his head from the hearth, Calliope called, “Uncle Eugene?”

He looked at her, eyes sharp. “Calliope, I want you to stay right where you are away from the windows,” he ordered. “I need to pop down and check on Elijah,” explained Mr. Mulpepper. Lips quirking upward, he remarked, “I’m sure he’s already secured the doors, but it doesn’t hurt to double check.”

“Yes, okay,” agreed Calliope, feeling rather meek and more than a little frightened.

Mr. Mulpepper walked over to her and gave the side of her face a soft caress. “Good girl,” he praised before turning and leaving the flat altogether. Rooted in her spot, Calliope hardly even let herself breathe too deeply lest it lead to unwanted consequences. As she stood, waiting, the floo flared to life and Calliope watched, wondering who it would be that stepped out. Mrs. Mulpepper? One of her parents? Someone else? When Sammy came out, face a bright red and wet with tears, she couldn’t help but gasp.

“Sammy!” she cried before darting over to her friend.

The other girl sobbed aloud at the sight of her. She then lunged forward and hugged her, crying, “Calliope, I don’t understand what’s going on, but it’s scaring me!”

“I should bloody think so!” exclaimed Calliope, extracting her friend from her front. Hands on the other girl’s shoulders, said, “It’s had Uncle Eugene tell Aunt Maisie he loves her.” Sammy continued to weep and Calliope began to fear greatly for both of their safety. She couldn’t let them stand here much longer. Mr. Mulpepper would be back any moment. Reaching over and grabbing Sammy by her wrist, she pulled the other girl to her bedroom. “Sammy, I wish I could make you feel better right now, but you need to go hide in my room,” she explained. Not able to keep her tone calm, she added, “Uncle Eugene will be back at any moment!”

“Calliope!” Sammy whimpered when she let her go upon entering her bedroom. From her room, the shouting outside could be heard quite distinctly. The Mulpeppers must have never bothered with putting sound-dampening charms in her room to keep out the noise from the street below.

She sighed. “Oh! Come on, you,” Calliope half-chided, half-comforted. “It’s going to be fine,” she told Sammy, giving her a handkerchief from her robe pocket. 

As her mate dried her wet face and wiped the snot off her lip, she whinged, “Stuff like this never used to happen when I lived with my mum and dad.”

Calliope pursed her lips and was quiet a moment, just watching as Sammy made herself look more like a girl of eleven instead of a baby. “Well, it wasn’t like this before the last couple of years, if that helps,” she replied.

“Not really,” the other sniffled, trying to give the handkerchief back to Calliope.

She shook her head. “No keep it.” Sammy hesitated, but balled up the kerchief and pushed it into the front pocket of her jeans when Calliope kept her hands fixed at her sides. Nothing in her hands, Sammy wrapped her arms around herself. It looked to Calliope as if she was trying to bring herself comfort with a hug and sparked an idea in her mind. Turning away from her friend, she went to her armoire and threw it open.

“What are you doing?” asked Sammy as Calliope got on her knees to search through the suitcase she’d brought with her to the Mulpepper’s last spring. 

“Ah-ha!” Calliope exclaimed when her hands wrapped around the familiar, lumpy softness of the stuffed animal she was looking for. Standing up again, she held the toy out to Sammy to take. “This is my No-Ears,” she told the other girl. “He’s a stuffed moon-calf. I used to take him  _ everywhere _ .” Smiling, Calliope suggested, “Why don’t you hug him in here while I go back to the lounge to wait for Uncle Eugene.” She knew a stuffed animal was poor imitation for the warmth and hands of a person, but it was better than having nothing to hold on to. Even so, Calliope swore, “I’ll come get you when everything’s safe.”

Sammy finally took the Moon-Calf plush and wrapped her round arms around its middle. “Thanks,” she said.

“It’s no trouble,” assured Calliope, fingers twisting in her shirt. “I wish I could do more for you right now,” she said, anxious.

“You’ve done plenty,” Sammy said, smiling for the first time. “You weren’t cross with me for coming over when we didn’t agree to a visit and you’re giving me your teddy to hold,” she told Calliope like it was some kind of huge favor instead of the least possible she could have done for Sammy. She opened her mouth to argue, but Mr. Mulpepper’s voice rang out through the small flat:

“Calliope!”

“Uh-oh!” she yelped, “I’m caught!”

Sammy pulled a face and apologized, “Sorry!”

She rolled her eyes at her friend. “This isn’t your fault,” she huffed before dashing to her bed and grabbing the afghan Mrs. Mulpepper made her off it. Wrapping it around herself like a cloak, she ran back to the lounge room, calling, “Uncle Eugene!”

“I told you to stay here, Calliope!” he scolded, hands on his hips.

“I’m sorry,” she said, lowering her chin into her chest. “I just wanted the blanket Aunt Maisie gave me to huddle under.” Softer, she told him, “It’s scary listening to the screaming.”

He sighed and came forward to hug her. “I know,” he said as he started to stroke her hair.

She tipped her face up to look at the age-worn countenance of Mr. Mulpepper. His eyes were attentive and Calliope decided now was the time to try to get answers. “Uncle Eugene?” she started.

“Yes?” he replied, continuing to pet her hair.

Calliope asked, “What’s happening?”

His hand stopped its ministrations and he averted his eyes. “War,” he answered in a dark, short tone.

She pursed her lips, displeased. That was hardly an answer at all. “War?” she repeated. “What does that mean,” she complained.

He exhaled. Eyes still looking away from her, he explained, “Elijah suspects the Snatchers are doing a round here in Knockturn.” He glanced down at Calliope then, looking to see how much she understood, she suspected. Though she only had a vague idea of who the Snatchers were from occasionally seeing it on the newspapers Mr. and Mrs. Mulpepper read, she did not let it show. Instead, she continued to stare at Mr. Mulpepper, urging him on. “It’s not actually too difficult to get by around here without a wand,” he told her. “For Muggle-borns and other enemies of the Ministry, pitching their wands and coming to Knockturn Alley to lay low likely seemed like a good way to survive the war.”

She frowned as she finally understood what was going on outside. There were Muggle-borns and dissenters of the Ministry being rounded up like criminals to be shipped off to Azkaban. “That’s terrible,” she said.

Mr. Mulpepper nodded. “It is,” he agreed.

A thought came to Calliope then. If they were doing this once, would they do it again? And if they did, would they start demanding to search in shops and flats? She bit her lip. “Do you think they will do this regularly?” asked Calliope.

Mr. Mulpepper gave a helpless shrug. “I don’t know.”

Thoughts still on Sammy, and on her sister now too, she said to Mr. Mulpepper, “I heard some Muggle-Borns went on the run, do you think they’re safer than those hiding here?” She hoped they were. She hated to think that the reason Sammy’s sister and Mrs. Whittaker’s son hadn’t come back was that they’d been caught like those people out in the street. 

The old man blinked at her, clearly startled. “You heard—” he sputtered, only to stop and narrow his eyes. “You’ve been reading my papers while we’re gone, haven’t you?” he questioned.

She hadn’t. Newspapers were quite dull in general in Calliope’s experience, but it was a better explanation than anything else (especially the truth). “Well…”

He chuckled. “I suppose it’s my fault,” Mr. Mulpepper admitted. “I never said you shouldn’t.” His hold on her tightened slightly as he said, “I would prefer you to refrain in the future. The information in the papers is not very honest these days and the stories are…” he trailed off, a furrow coming between his brows. Mr. Mulpepper shook his head a moment later and said, “Well, it’s something a girl your age shouldn’t bother yourself with.”

Calliope couldn’t help the irritation that rose in her chest. Pulling away from the old man, she argued, “I’m ten! That’s plenty old.” Scowling at him, she reminded Mr. Mulpepper, “I know Darla actually saw and went through worse when she was half my age.”

Mr. Mulpepper nodded. “That’s true, she did experience much worse,” he agreed with a distant look. “That doesn’t mean I or anyone else don’t wish she hadn’t. If we could have saved her that pain and fear…” he stopped and sighed. “We just want you to have it better, is all.”

Calliope nodded. It was nice of him, Mrs. Mulpepper, and everybody else to want her to live a more carefree life, but it wasn’t what she wanted. Calliope knew she couldn’t expect to know everything they did or be allowed to do as much them, but she still felt she deserved to understand more than she did now. “Uncle Eugene, I’m still going to read the papers,” she told him. Or she would be now, anyway, now that she knew how valuable they really were. “No one wants to talk to me about what’s going on,” she said, “maybe it’s not all true, but it’s the only thing that even gives me a little idea of what’s going on outside, what my parents, Eileen and Essie are experiencing.”

His face twisted briefly, but the old man’s shoulders quickly fell and he replied, “I understand. If you have questions, do ask myself or Maisie. We will answer as well as we can.”

She smiled, feeling quite victorious. “Thank you, Uncle Eug—”

A knocking sounded at the flat door, drowning out Calliope and making her jump. Mr. Mulpepper looked away from her and to the flat’s door. He gave her one last squeeze before letting her go. “You’re welcome, dear girl,” he said. Then, walking to the door, he remarked, “That must be Elijah. I told him to come up and knock when he felt it was safe.” Then, as if to prove him right, when he opened the door, on the other side was the apothecary employee. Mr. Mulpepper greeted him warmly by taking ahold of one of the man’s hand. “Elijah, young man, what do you have to report?” he asked.

Elijah looked from Mr. Mulpepper to Calliope to back to him. “I think the worst of it is over, Mr. Mulpepper,” he said. Slanted eyes back on Calliope, he told Mr. Mulpepper, haltingly, “They’re just… cleaning up. I would suggest your niece stay away from the windows for a while longer.”

“Of course, thank you,” replied Mr. Mulpepper, finally letting go of Elijah’s hand. “I will come down and help you go through the closing procedures.” He chuckled without mirth and commented, “I reckon no one will want to come to the apothecary anymore today.”

“All right,” agreed Elijah, his shoulder-length black hair falling into his face as he nodded. “I will meet you downstairs.” Elijah then stepped back and walked away. When he was out of sight, Mr. Mulpepper turned to Calliope.

“Calliope, I want you to come down with me— Just in case,” he said.

She frowned and forced herself not to look back to her room, to where Sammy was waiting for her. “I won’t look out the windows,” she promised.

“I’m sure you won’t,” replied Mr. Mulpepper, “but I would feel better having you close by.”

Calliope desperately tried to think of a reason why she shouldn’t go with him, but couldn’t Relenting, she mumbled, “…Okay. Just let me put my blanket away.”

He smiled. “I’ll be right here.”

When Calliope walked into her room, Sammy shot up from the room’s rocking chair, No-Ears still in her arm. Eyes big and hopeful, she said, “Calliope?”

She took the afghan off her shoulders and folded it back up to lay on her bed. As she did so, she explained, “Uncle Eugene is insisting I go downstairs with him while he closes up the shop for the day.” Lips trembling, she said, “I wish I could stay with you, but I can’t. It’s mostly over, at least. Go back to Whittaker’s, okay? You can come over tomorrow at two for a little bit and we can talk and stuff then.”

Sammy sagged in place, looking both sad and disappointed. “Okay…”

“I’m really sorry I haven’t been able to help you more, Sammy,” Calliope told her friend, blinking back guilty tears.

Her friend offered a wobbly smile. “It’s not your fault,” she assured.

Calliope supposed that was true, but she still felt bad. “Also, stay away from the windows for a bit,” she advised. “They’re still out there cleaning up the streets. You wouldn’t want to be seen right now I don’t think.”

“Thanks, Calliope.”

“You can take No-Ears with you if you like,” Calliope told her still very forlorn-looking friend. “Just be sure to keep it hidden from Mrs. Whittaker.” A new thought coming to her, Calliope snapped her fingers and told Sammy, “Oh! Also, help yourself to an apple or pear from the fruit bowl on your way out. Aunt Maisie bought them yesterday and they’re really good.”

Her friend’s wobbly smile turned stronger and she said, “I will, thank you for not being cross with me and letting me have your Moon-Cow for the night.”

“It’s what mates are for,” Calliope said, leaning in to give the other girl a quick hug.

“Calliope, what’s taking you so long?” called Mr. Mulpepper from the lounge. 

Going stiff, Calliope quickly pulled back from Sammy and ran for her open armoire where she pulled out her navy blue robe with the gold diamond pattern on it. “Sorry!” she yelled back to the old man. “I just wanted a robe and couldn’t decide which one.”

“Silly girl, it doesn’t matter,” he called back. “It’s just me and Elijah downstairs. I reckon the customer we had before the commotion has left now that it’s safe.”

Her robe now on, she gave one last wave to Sammy before stepping out of her bedroom and into the corridor. Her heart lept to her throat when she saw Mr. Mulpepper was at the mouth of the corner and not where she left him near the flat door. Forcing a weak smile, she said, “I guess you’re right…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thoughts?
> 
> Thank you for reading and please let me know your thoughts with a comment and/or kudo!


	7. A Series of Surprises

Over the last hour, Calliope and Sammy’s conversation had tapered into silence as they became more and more absorbed in drawing pictures of their favorite places. Calliope couldn’t recall why they decided they would do this today anymore, but she knew now it had done very little to soothe the ache in her chest. Tracing the clumsy lines that made up her poor imitation of her family’s lounge room sofa, she sighed. The room she’d drawn hardly compared to her memory, but if Calliope squinted, it still looked almost exactly like the lounge. 

To keep herself from crying, she forced her eyes up from the drawing and to Sammy across the table. She had her head bent close to her parchment. The pencil she was using (instead of the quill Calliope offered her) moved in small, precise movements by her nose. Calliope frowned, suddenly bothered that her mate was paying her so little attention. Sammy hadn’t even noticed she stopped drawing. Puffing out her cheeks, she said, “Next week is my birthday.”

Sammy did not pause in her sketching, just glanced up from behind her pencil once to look at her before going back to her drawing. “Really?” she replied. “ How old will you be? Twelve?”

Calliope rested her elbow on the tabletop and put her cheek in her hand. Eyes now trained on the kitchen window, she said feeling defeated, “No, eleven.”

However, instead of just humming a noncommital reply as Calliope expected of her, Sammy, let go of her pencil and sat up. “Wow!” she exclaimed. “I thought we were the same age…”

Calliope furrowed her brows. Sammy had turned eleven only this spring. That meant they were the same age, didn’t it? Now uncertain, she asked, “We are, aren’t we?”

Sammy waved a hand in a flippant motion. “Technically, I suppose,” she answered. “Though I was born in April and it’s now October. So we aren’t in the same school year, which makes me feel older…”

She nodded but smiled as well. Perhaps that would be true in any other world, but in this one, Sammy was missing what should be her first year at Hogwarts, which meant (hopefully) she would start next year with Calliope. “That’s true,” she agreed. “But you’re missing this year at school, so if the war is over soon, we will be in the same year now.”

Sammy laughed. “You’re right!” she agreed. Eyes wide, she said, “I hope it ends soon! I want us to be in the same year.”

“Me too!” she said. Looking toward the clock then, Calliope saw it was time to pick up. Getting up from the kitchen table, she gathered her and Sammy’s cups together and took them to the sink to wash and put away. 

While her back was to her friend, Sammy called, “Calliope?”

“Yeah?” she returned as she began to dry their glasses to put them back in the cupboard.

“What do you want for your birthday?”

Calliope’s hand came to an abrupt stop beside the cupboard’s handle. She should have never mentioned her birthday. With her hand hovering in the air, Calliope stammered, “Um, I probably shouldn’t even bother saying.” she sighed and finally opened the cupboard and put away the cups. “I know I won’t get it…”

Sammy was quiet for a moment before asking, “You want your whole family together, don’t you?”

Calliope giggled a little too loudly and turned around to look at her friend. It wasn’t exactly difficult to guess that was what she wanted, but she was still surprised Sammy figured it out so quickly. “How’d you know?” she asked, trying to sound like she was teasing instead of close to tears.

Her friend grimaced. “That’s what I want for my birthday this year,” admitted Sammy. “I don’t care how much it’s going to annoy my mum, I want Amber and her boyfriend Emmett to be at my party too.”

Calliope nodded. “I bet she’ll allow it,” she told her friend, relieved to no longer be talking about her. “He and your sister stopped you from becoming one of those people the Snatchers took from the street last week.”

“That’s true,” replied Sammy, smiling at this realization. Expression growing serious, she inquired, “Calliope, can I ask you another question?”

She didn’t know why Sammy looked so grim all of a sudden and felt a little reluctant to. At least it wouldn’t be as difficult as the last question Sammy asked (she hoped). Calliope pushed her lips into a smile. “Sure!”

“Do you even  _ want  _ to celebrate your birthday?” 

Calliope blinked and her smile ran away from her face. “Well… I’m not sure I’ll get much of a say,” she answered. “I think the Mulpeppers are still going to make me a cake and my family is going to send me letters and birthday cards.” She tilted her head, considering. “Gifts too, I reckon,” she added. Forcing a new smile across her face, she said, “I may as well make the best of it, don’t you think?”

“So if I come by with a birthday card you’ll not be upset with me?” Sammy questioned, watching her.

Calliope shook her head. “No! Never.”

Sammy dipped her chin in acknowledgment. “I’ll make you something really pretty, Calliope, I promise,” she swore.

Walking over to her mate, Calliope put her hand on top of Sammy’s. “Thank you, Sammy,” she said. “You’re the best mate a witch could ask for.”

-o-O-o-

Finished with her slice of birthday cake, Calliope brought a napkin to her face to wipe away the frosting stuck to the corner of her mouth. As she cleaned up, Mr. Mulpepper got to his feet and disappeared from view a moment. Calliope looked at Mrs. Mulpepper, whose eyes were alight with excitement. She looked behind her to try and find Mr. Mulpepper in response and saw that he had one of his hands behind his back. She narrowed her eyes and was going to ask what the old man was hiding when a pair of dry, papery hands covered her eyes.

“Aunt Maisie!” she groaned.

The old woman just chuckled and kept her hands there a moment longer. “Okay,” she said before removing them. “Look down at the table,” she advised.

Calliope did so. She gasped when she saw a long, silver-wrapped present in front of her.

“Happy birthday Calliope!” the Mulpeppers said to her as she reached for the gift.

“Uncle Eugene! Aunt Maisie!” she complained, not really unhappy to have the gift, just annoyed she hadn’t anticipated they would be getting her one. Lifting the gift to test the heft before opening it, she said, “I thought you’d just make me a cake…” Undoing the paper, she opened the box beneath and grinned. “This is so lovely,” she gushed, holding up the dress to get a better look at it. It was a warm brown color with red trim at the bottom and a matching red sash at the middle to hold it closed when she wore it. Lowering it back into the box, Calliope sighed. “I wish I had somewhere to wear it.”

Mr. and Mrs. Mulpepper exchanged a glance. “A dress doesn’t always need to be worn for  _ somewhere _ , sometimes they can be worn for  _ someone _ .”

“Someone?” Calliope echoed with a furrow between her brows. “Is somebody going to come by?” she asked.

“Perhaps,” answered Mrs. Mulpepper with a smirk. “Now, open your cards and gifts from your parents and sisters.”

Calliope eyed the small pile of gifts and letters with a considering eye. There had been no mention of Darla at all. She didn’t dare to hope yet, but… “Only them, hm?”

Mrs. Mulpepper laughed and reached over to squeeze her husband’s hand. “She’s gotten much too clever for us, Eugene,” she said.

Mr. Mulpepper nodded and said with a serious expression, “I suppose it’s only to be expected.” He kept his face straight as he teased, “Eleven isn’t a little girl anymore.”

“No, it’s not!” Calliope agreed wholeheartedly. They may be joking, but for Calliope being eleven meant exactly that. She would be a student of Hogwarts next year and would live in a dorm and start doing all of the older girl things her sisters and Darla had been doing as long as she could remember.

The old woman sighed, but it wasn’t in an unhappy way and she smiled at Calliope as she said, “Well, I guess since you’ve already figured it out… Your aunt should be by quite soon with a surprise of her own for you.”

Calliope covered her mouth with her hands in her shock. When she could think again, she began to jump in place as she yelled, “ _ Darla _ is going to come over?” Snatching up her new dress, she dashed out of the kitchen and for her room, calling over her shoulder, “Let me go change!”

Once in her bedroom, Calliope shed the outfit she was wearing and put on the dress. As she tied the sash around her middle, she looked into her mirror and considered herself. It was a more grownup style than anything other dress she’d ever worn. The dress fell just below her knees (to keep it a decent length even if she had a growth spurt, she reckoned) and the collar, given the style of the dress, dipped lower on her chest than anything else she owned. If her breasts started to grow soon, she would probably have to find a slip or vest to wear beneath this dress. Calliope smiled and gathered her hair, which she then pulled back with a tie called a scrunchy given to her by Sammy. 

Giving herself one last look-over in the mirror, Calliope laughed. She looked a lot like Darla right now. As she was about to leave her room, Calliope paused. Should she put her stay-home signal, No-Ears, in the window to indicate to Sammy not come over? After another beat of hesitation, she decided against it. Chances were that Darla wouldn’t be around long enough for their visits to cross. If it got close time-wise, she could always go to the “bathroom” and put No-Ears in the window then. She hoped she wouldn’t have to. Sammy might be hurt not to be able to give Calliope her card (not to mention she’d be disappointed to not receive it). Walking out of her room and back into the kitchen, Calliope grinned when the Mulpeppers reached for each other’s hands to hold.

“My, don’t you look grown-up?” gushed Mrs. Mulpepper as Calliope sat back down in her spot at the table.

“Thank you!” she said, face flushing with pleasure.

Pushing her gifts toward her, Mr. Mulpepper remarked, “Perhaps your sisters or parents sent you something to wear with your dress, hm?”

Calliope tilted her head.“You think?” she asked. Picking up one of her gifts, she tore past the boring brown parcel paper to see inside was a note from her sisters and a little box. Flipping the lid of the box, she gave a delighted laugh and pulled out a tiny, colorful vial “Oh! Look it, Essie and Eileen sent me some nail varnish,” she said, smiling. “Quick-drying too!”

“And your parents?” Mr. Mulpepper pressed, pushing a tiny box at her.

“Sev and Edie sent me…” She felt her mouth drop at the sight of a pair of gold owl-shaped studs inside the box.“ Earings!” she exclaimed, stroking one with her thumb. However, her surprise quickly turned to befuddlement and she looked to the Mulpeppers for an answer. “But I don’t have pierced ears?”

“Perhaps that’s your mother’s way of saying she will be visiting with you again soon, hm?” suggested Mrs. Mulpepper in a warm, kind tone.

“Oh, is it?” Calliope said, thinking the idea over. It did seem very plausible. “That’s brilliant!” she declared. Searching their faces for more hints and clues, she asked, “Do you think she will bring Essie or Eileen? I really want to see them too.” She sighed. “And Sev, but I don’t think he’s going to be able to leave Hogwarts right now…”

The smiles on their faces dimmed slightly as Mr. Mulpepper answered, “We will have to see, won’t we?”

Calliope pouted. “Oh, all right.” After a beat of silence, she said, “Aunt Maisie?”

“Yes, dear?”

She thrust out her fingers and wiggled them at the old woman.“Will you paint my nails for me while I read my cards and letter from Sev?” she asked.

The woman smiled and reached for a vial of purple-red nail varnish. “I will,” she agreed as she popped it open.

-o-O-o-

Laid out on the lounge room sofa, Calliope tapped her stocking-covered foot against the arm of it. While doing so, Calliope scowled at the clock next to the fireplace. Who would have thought time could slow without the use of magic? Sighing to herself, she rolled onto her side to watch the fireplace itself instead of the clock. Perhaps her aunt would get here faster if she were watching it instead. Or did fireplaces work like pots of water? 

It seemed she’d gotten her answer when the hearth flared to life with green flames. However, instead of a voice coming through like she expected, a person appeared. She gasped when out of the flames stumbled her mate. “Sammy! You’re early today,” she said.

Her friend ducked her head, causing her overgrown fringe to fall in her eyes. “Oh, is that not okay?” she asked. Not looking Calliope in the eye, she mumbled, “I’m sorry. I just thought—”

Calliope put on a smile, heart warmed and fluttering nervously in her chest at the same. “—Don’t apologize,” she told her friend, cutting off the rest of her explanation. Getting up, she went and met Sammy by the fireplace. Taking her hands in her own, she said, “Usually, it wouldn’t matter at all and I’d be  _ happy  _ to spend more of today with you.” Sammy finally met her gaze and Calliope squeezed her friend’s fingers. “It’s just Aunt Maisie said that Darla is going to visit me with a surprise today. It’s going to be the first time I’ve seen her in months.”

Sammy beamed. “How lucky!” she exclaimed. “I was afraid you were going to have a kind of sad birthday being alone most of the day, but instead, you’re going to see your aunt.” Seemingly have lost steam, Sammy exhaled and pulled away her hand’s from Calliope. Going toward the tin of floo powder kept on the desk beside the fireplace, she held it in her hands as she said, “I just wish I could meet her…”

All of a sudden, Calliope had a very good idea. Propping one hand on her hip and rubbing her chin with the other, she remarked, “You know, maybe you can.”

“What?” Sammy said, blinking at her with her large blue eyes.

Calliope nodded and stepped forward to take the tin from Sammy and put it back on the desk. “If there is anyone in the world I trust to tell about you, it’s her,” she said. Beckoning for Sammy to come to sit on the sofa with her, Calliope explained once they were side by side, “Darla has made herself an enemy to the Death-Eaters for revealing which of them killed the Bones boys’ parents.”

“Death-Eaters?” Sammy repeated with a frown. “What are those?” she asked. Frown darkening, she said, “And they  _ killed  _ people and she didn’t go to the police after finding out they did?”

Calliope bit her lip. There was  _ so much _ to explain. So much she probably should have already. But she hadn’t because… Sev had been one. Was one? She didn’t know. Calliope didn’t want to believe her dad was a bad guy, but he’d killed Professor Dumbledore. He didn’t stand up for Darla to the Death-Eaters and he had Calliope sent away. 

She just hoped someone someday would be able to tell her there was a good reason for every terrible thing he’d done. Until then, Calliope would just need to be careful about how she chose her words. “It’s… I’ll have to explain it all later,” she said. Sammy, of course, began to glare at her and she sighed. “It’s very complicated,” she told the other girl. “Death-Eaters have a bit to do with the Ministry right now and why your sister brought you here to Knockturn to hide you.”

“You say that a lot, Calliope,” her mate replied in a quiet, but cross tone. “And then we never talk about it.”

She blinked. “I do?” she said, feigning ignorance. “I’m sorry…” she apologized. “I guess there’s just so much else I would rather discuss with you than the war and Death Eaters.” 

Sammy’s glare lightened up a little and she said, “I suppose it’s not  _ all  _ your fault. It’s not like I’ve ever insisted you explain anything to me.” Calliope’s heart twinged at her friend taking fault for something she shouldn’t but didn’t row with her. Sammy didn’t seem aware of Calliope’s turmoil as she continued, “I’ve liked learning about potions and spells. As well as teaching you Origami and summarizing the  _ Sweet Valley High  _ books for you.”

“I’ve really liked that too,” Calliope said, earnest, fingers digging into the linen of her dress.

Sammy nodded, face stern. “That’s going to have to change, though,” she declared. “I’m starting to realize I hate not knowing  _ anything  _ about what’s happening outside.”

“Okay,” she agreed, it was the least she could do. Especially because Sammy might not be across the street for much longer. Watching her friend carefully, she told Sammy, “I’ll tell you what I know about the war and stuff, though, it’s probably not enough to answer all of your questions. But maybe that’s okay. Darla knows a lot more and you can ask her questions too.” 

“Is that why you want me to be here for Darla?” asked Sammy.

Calliope shook her head. “No, why I want to let Darla meet you is because she may be able to find your sister and Emmett.”

Sammy’s eyes flew wide and she began to bounce a little in place. “Really!”

“Yes. Since Darla upset the Death Eaters, the Death Eaters’s enemy, the Order has been protecting and hiding her,” she explained. “The Order might have people who can look for them and bring them somewhere safe where you can all be together like Amber said she wanted for you three.”

Tears sprung to Sammy’s eyes. “I want that,” she whispered.

Calliope swallowed around the lump in her throat. She wanted Sammy to be with her family too. Yet… she wanted her to stay across the street as well. “When you go into hiding with your sister and Emmett, we probably won’t see each other again until we go to Hogwarts together after the war,” Calliope warned her.

A trembling lip joined Sammy’s tears. “I… I don’t want that, Calliope,” she whimpered. “Who knows how long this war will go for?”

She looked away from Sammy and shrugged. To be honest, Calliope didn’t know. She  _ hoped  _ it wouldn’t go on for much longer, but what power did hope have over  _ anything _ ? Instead of trying to answer Sammy’s question, Calliope said, “We can still exchange letters sometimes. I do with Darla.”

“That’s not the same!” cried Sammy.

She crossed her arms and sneered at the other girl’s babyish whining. “Well, if you don’t want to see your sister again and want to stay with mean old Mrs. Whittaker, go back to her flat right now!” she snapped.

“That’s not what I’m saying at all!” Sammy grumbled round cheeks flushed pink.

Calliope snorted. “You could have fooled me!”

Sammy placed a hand on her arm. Reluctantly, she met Sammy’s gaze. Her face was still red and wet, but her expression was completely serious as she told Calliope, “Calliope, you’re the best friend I’ve ever had. I want to see you every day as I have been. I don’t want that part of my life to change.”

“I don’t want it to either, Sammy,” she said. Gently, she shook off her friend’s hand. Squaring her shoulders, she pretended she was Eileen. Her sister understood putting aside what you felt in the interest of everyone’s benefit better than anyone else Calliope knew. Thinking like her sister, Calliope told Sammy, “Sometimes, though, we have to do what’s best for others. This is what’s best for you, for your sister, and Emmett.” 

A speculative air came to Sammy’s countenance. “I wonder if that’s how my dad felt when he let my sister take me,” she remarked after a pause.

“Probably,” said Calliope. She suspected the older you got, the more you did things thinking of how it will affect everyone, not just yourself. “I reckon my parents felt that way. My mum, Edie, was just gutted when she left me with the Mulpeppers, but she still did it.”

Sammy nodded before an anxious light came to her eyes. “It’s not been so bad for you, has it?” she demanded. “We’ve become mates.”

“No, it’s not been bad at all!” Calliope assured her mate. She bit her lip when the nervous look on Sammy’s face didn’t let up. With a sigh, she admitted, “It’s hard sometimes, but I have really loved meeting you and becoming your friend.”

“I… I suppose being in hiding with my sister and Emmett won’t be so bad,” she said after a long bout of silence between them. Voice soft, she said, “I’ll finally get to know Amber.”

“You will!” agreed Calliope.

Sammy breathed out. “Okay,” she murmured. Then, shifting around, she pulled her rucksack off her back and opened it. Rummaging inside, Sammy mumbled, “Um, this seems a little out of order, now but, here.”

Calliope blinked and looked down at her suddenly filled hands. She gave a delighted giggle when she saw paper flowers in her hands. “An origami bouquet!” she exclaimed.

“It’ll last forever, unlike real flowers,” explained Sammy, smiling.

“It’s so pretty, thank you!” gushed Calliope, bringing them nearer to her.

Not meeting her gaze, Sammy handed over a folded piece of decorated parchment. “I also made you this card.”

“Oh, Sammy!” she cried as she opened it up to read:

_ Happy Birthday, Calliope! _

_ I’m sure this isn’t how you envisioned your 11th birthday, but I hope it will be a happy one still. You’ve been a wonderful mate to me these past months. I love and am thankful for all that you do and will do to make my time in hiding a little less awful. I hope the flowers I give you make your days better the same way you make my days better. _

_ Your mate, _

_ Sammy. _

“Sammy!” she yelled as she tackled her in a hug to thank her for her very kind, and very sweet gift. Calliope was sure she would remember it forever as the best gift she’d ever received from anyone.

“Calliope, I can’t breathe!” wheezed her friend.

“Sorry, this is just—” Calliope breathed in around the growing lump in her throat to calm down. “I love you,” she whispered.

Sammy made a small gasping sound and stared at Calliope. “Um, I love you too,” she mumbled, looking down at her hands.

Calliope felt her already painfully wide grin grow. Standing up, she offered a hand to her friend. “I figured out where the Mulpeppers keep their camera,” she said. “When Darla shows up, we’ll have her take a picture of us. That way, you can have a copy of us while you’re in hiding.”

Sammy took her hand and let Calliope help her to her feet. “That’s a wicked idea,” she enthused. “When is Darla going to come?”

Calliope squinted over at the camera. “Well, soon?” she offered. “Uncle Eugene said the floo will light up between nine-thirty and ten with a call where someone is selling cleaning supplies and I have to answer it by saying ‘Yes, I would like to look at your floor waxing potions.” Leading her friend away from the lounge and down the hall, Calliope explained, “That way, Darla will know it's safe.”

“What if you were to say no?” asked Sammy.

She tapped her chin. “I reckon she’d think it isn’t safe to come over.”

“Clever!”

“I suppose you’re right!” replied Calliope, laughing. “Now, we have a couple of minutes before we  _ really  _ need to watch the fireplace. Want to get the Mulpeppers’ camera with me?”

“Sure!” agreed Sammy. “Is it very different from a Muggle one?”

Calliope tilted her head in consideration. She’d never seen a Muggle one. Though, couldn't see how the two could be  _ that  _ different from each other. Their wirelesses were quite alike, weren’t they? “No, I don’t think it is…” 

-o-O-o-

“Hello?” called Calliope when the floo activated. 

“Hello, Miss!” Darla yelled to her in a funny accent. “Would you be interested in a demonstration of Wyatt Wyver’s Cleaning Creations today?”

She laughed as Sammy watched her with wide eyes. Handing the Mulpepper’s camera to her, Calliope hopped up from the sofa and approached the fireplace. “Yes! I’d like to see your floor wax potions if I may,” she replied, snickering.

“Excellent,” said Darla. “Step back!”

Calliope did as instructed and watched the floo flare to life. However, before she could see her aunt appear, Calliope felt a hand tug on her hair. Looking back, she saw Sammy was wearing an expression of worry. “Calliope—”

“Calliope! My favorite Snape!” said Darla.

Whipping her head back around, Calliope smiled. Her aunt was  _ here _ ! Darting forward, she cried, “Darla! I missed you.” She started to open her arms for a hug but stopped short when she saw there was a blanket-wrapped bundle in her hands. Pointing at it, she asked, “What’s that in your arms?”

Darla, however, was not looking at Calliope anymore and behind her, at Sammy. A frown on her face, she countered, “Who’s  _ this _ ?

Ignoring the question, Calliope stepped closer and leaned over Darla’s arms to look at the bundle. She covered her mouth when she saw a tiny face peeking out from the blanket's folds. Eyes wide, she looked up at her aunt and babbled, “You have a  _ baby _ ? Why do you have a baby?”

Darla, however, kept her eyes on Sammy behind Calliope. She heard her friend sigh and say in a small voice, “I’m Sammy Vickers, Ms. Darla.”

“Darla will do, thank you,” her aunt replied, brushing past Calliope and approaching the sofa. “The baby is not important right now,” she said. “He’s asleep for at least the next hour.” She leveled Sammy with a stern stare. “Move out of the way,” she ordered. “I need to put him down.”

As Sammy all but jumped up and away from the sofa, Calliope spun around and balled her hands at her side. “Not important!” she argued. “You didn’t have a baby the last time I saw you!”

Darla continued to ignore her. Once she laid the baby down, she sat down next to it and crossed her legs and arms. “All right,” she said, looking over at Sammy. “Now, who are you? Sammy Vickers? That name sounds terribly familiar…” Darla tilted her head, eyes focusing on the corner of the room away from Calliope and Sammy.

“You might know my sister?” offered Sammy, wringing her hands in front of her. “Well, half-sister,” she amended. “Amber?”

“Amber…” Darla murmured, eyes narrowing. Startling both of them, she clapped her hands and exclaimed, “Oh! Yes, she was on Hufflepuff’s Quidditch team.”

Sammy smiled, some of the tension fading from her shoulders. “Yes!”

Re-affixing her Sev-worthy glare on her face, she said, “That doesn’t explain why you’re here.” For the first time since she stepped out of the fireplace, she looked at her. “Calliope?”

Meeting Darla’s gaze, she explained, “She’s a Muggle-born and her sister hid Sammy across the street with her boyfriend’s mother.”

Darla nodded. “And who is Amber’s boyfriend?” she asked.

“Emmett Whittaker.”

The name drew an instant reaction from Darla. “ _ Whittaker  _ is going out with  _ Amber _ ?” she demanded, expression one of utter surprise.

She scowled at her aunt and chanced a look at Sammy out of the corner of her eye. Sammy had begun to twist and pull at her fingers again, clearly uneasy about Darla’s reaction. “What’s so surprising about that!” Calliope snapped.

Darla’s surprised faded and a more neutral, measured expression took its place. “Hm,” she mumbled, looking down at her lap, “how to put this…” Breathing in and then out, she lifted her gaze to meet Calliope and Sammy’s. “Whittaker’s mates at Hogwarts weren’t exactly an open-minded sort,” she said.

Calliope blinked. “Oh?”

“Clearly, something changed if you’ve been hidden with his mother,” Darla continued, eyes focused on Sammy. “How he managed to convince her to keep quiet is what I would like to know.”

“He threatened to never see her again,” Sammy whispered.

Darla leaned backed, one hand going to rest atop the baby. “Now things are making sense,” she said.

Still annoyed with her aunt for not explaining the baby and refusing to answer any of  _ her  _ questions while they answered  _ Darla’s _ , she grumbled, “Isn’t that bully for you.”

“You knock that off right now, Calliope,” her aunt scolded. “You’re the one who met me with a surprise.”

She scoffed. “Met  _ you  _ with a surprise? You have a baby!”

Darla smirked a little “Mr. and Mrs. Mulpepper said I’d be bringing a surprise, didn’t they?”

“I thought it’d be a new robe or a puzzle maybe!” she said, stamping one of her feet. “Not a  _ baby _ .”

Her aunt sighed and tilted her head back to rest on the top of the couch. “Yes, well, I didn’t realize I’d be having one until he was born,” she replied.

Calliope just stared at her aunt for a time. Finally, she said, “…You didn’t know you were pregnant?”

“Oh, I did,” her aunt replied, lifting her head and giving Calliope a lazy smile. “I just didn’t think I would keep him until Madam Pomfrey put him in my hands.”

“So he is your  _ actual  _ baby?” she questioned. Then, feeling more than a little dismayed, she demanded, “How come no one told me you were pregnant!”

“Frankly, I asked no one to say anything to you,” Darla told her. “As I said, I didn’t think I would keep him. It was bad enough Eileen and Essie knew…”

“They knew!” she shouted, even more upset if it were possible. What had her sisters done to be deserving of the knowledge of Darla’s pregnancy and not her? 

“Not because I wanted them to,” said Darla.

Crossing her arms and turning away slightly, she told her aunt, “I’m very,  _ very  _ cross with you!”

Darla scrubbed a hand across her face and sighed. “I suppose I deserve that,” she replied. Then, patting the free space beside her on the sofa, she suggested, “Now, why don’t you sit down and I will let you hold your cousin until he wakes up and needs to be fed.”

“I—” started Calliope, ready to start yelling about how that was a  _ stupid idea  _ and  _ why  _ would she want to sit next to Darla while she’s so  _ angry  _ at her. Then, she looked at the blanket hiding her cousin and felt her shoulders give way. She wanted to hold her cousin more than she wanted to not sit next to Darla. To make sure her aunt knew this changed nothing of what she felt for her, Calliope glared at her. “Fine.”

Darla simply smiled as Calliope sat down. Scooping up her baby, she placed them in her hands. She found herself surprised by how little her cousin weighed. “Oh, the baby’s actually very small…”

“He’s a little older than a month,” explained Darla, fussing with the blankets around the baby’s face.

“Really?” she asked, looking from her cousin to Darla.

“Yes.”

Calliope returned her attention to the baby. Staring at the small, round face of her cousin, she asked, “Darla?”

“Hm?”

“What’s his name?” Calliope questioned, shifting the baby to one arm so she could bring a free finger to stroke his pale cheek.

“I’ve just been calling him the baby,” admitted Darla. “I haven’t really thought of anything to call him yet.” Calliope looked up, surprised, but said nothing. Face scrunched, her aunt explained, “I sort of considered calling him Stephen, but that seemed wrong. George should be able to use his brother’s name first if he wants to.”

Calliope nodded. The more she stared at her cousin, the more she was reminded of her father. He was still very small, but she thought maybe her cousin’s nose had the start of the Snape hook to it. “You should name him after Sev,” she said.

“Sev?” her aunt echoed.

“Well, he raised you mostly,” she argued. “Sev named Eileen after Grandmother Eileen because she raised and loved him…”

Darla was quiet. “I don’t know if he’d like that,” she said after a while.

She puffed out her cheeks and glared up at Darla. “He doesn’t get to say what you call your baby.”

A smile twitched at the corners of Darla’s mouth. “That’s true.”

“I think it would suit him,” she declared. Giving her cousin’s nose a light poke, she decided to make her observation known. “He’s already got the Snape family nose.” 

“Yes, he does,” agreed Darla, leaning in to lay a hand on top of his mostly bald head.

“‘Lo, little Severus,” Calliope whispered to her cousin.

Darla snorted. “Little Severus,” she repeated, gazing down at her baby with unusually warm eyes. Finally, she sighed and sat back up. “You win, Calliope,” she said. “The baby is now little Severus David Snape II.”

“You’re going to name him for David too?” Calliope asked, delighted. She remembered him. When Calliope and Edie went to have lunch with Darla at St. Mungo’s when she was doing her training as a healer, sometimes Healer David Chopra would eat with them too. Edie said he’d helped Darla after a Death-Eater attack during the first war when he was young. 

Since then, he and Darla had been rather fond of each other and became pen friends once David graduated from Hogwarts when Darla was seven. Then, while Darla was a Healer in training, they’d been a mentor and their mentee. She’d actually cried in July when Mr. Mulpepper read to her from the Daily Prophet that a Healer at St. Mungo’s, David Chopra, was put on trial for letting a patient purposefully die under his care, and sentenced to Azkaban afterward.

“He is a good mate,” Darla explained. “Plus, he was the one who sent me down my career path. The career I’ll hopefully be able to practice once this damn war is over…”

“Speaking of the war,” broke in Sammy, reminding Calliope and Darla that they were not alone

Darla turned toward the girl, who at some point, had sat in Mr. Mulpepper’s chair. “Oh?” she prompted.

“Calliope was saying maybe you could help me?” Sammy said before biting her lip.

Her aunt’s gaze shifted to Calliope. “Did she?”

“That’s why I’m here now,” said Sammy, a hand on her chest. “She said a group, the Order? Is keeping you safe somewhere. My sister and Emmett are on the run from the Ministry I think and I haven’t seen them since they left me with Mrs. Hgar back in June.”

Darla frowned. “That’s quite a long time.”

“It is!” agreed Sammy, scooting to the edge of her seat. “And Amber had promised she’d come back for me soon when she left with Emmett.”

“Are you safe with Mrs. Whittaker right now?” asked Darla.

Sammy hesitated, but in the end, nodded her head. “…Yes. I’m not happy, but nothing bad has happened to me besides some name-calling from her.”

Darla exhaled. “Okay,” she said. “’ll contact some Order members about your sister and Whittaker later. I’ll also see what we can do about reunite you three and maybe finding a safe place for all of you to stay together.”

Sammy grinned. “That’d be nice, thank you.”

“I would take you back to my safe house with me right now,” Darla said. She crossed her arms and looked to her lap. “But if you’re relatively well with Mrs. Whittaker… I’d rather not rock any boats. I reckon you’ll be safe there a little while more if you have been for so long.”

The smile on Sammy’s face fell and a furrow came between her brows instead. “I suppose.”

“You seem upset,” remarked Darla, eyeing the girl.

“She’s just mean, is all,” explained Sammy. Lip shaking, she whispered, “I miss my family too.”

“I understand,” said Darla. Getting to her feet, she walked to Sammy and gently lifted her face with a hand. “But chin up, hm?” she smiled at the girl. “It won’t be for much longer!”

“ _ How  _ much longer do you think I will be stuck with Mrs. Hagar?” asked Sammy, brows furrowed and tone shrewd.

“Two weeks?” offered Darla. Squinting over Sammy’s head, she said, “No more than a month.”

Sammy smiled again. “I like that you’re giving me an actual timeline.”

“I’m sure Amber thought she would be able to retrieve you soon,” said Darla, patting Sammy’s shoulder before returning to the sofa with Calliope and Little Severus.

“Maybe.”

“If Mrs. Whittaker has been as unkind as you say, I know she wouldn’t have wanted you to stay with her long at all,” insisted Darla. “Amber was a very nice girl from what I recall. She always was surrounded by mates.”

Face darkening, she said, quite unkindly, “It’s ‘cause she was pretty, I reckon.”

“You’re quite cute yourself, Sammy,” Darla told her.

Sammy shook her head. “No, I’m not.”

“Oh, but you are,” insisted Darla. “I think you rival even Calliope.”

“Darla!” she said, aghast that her own aunt could say such a thing about her.

Sammy brought her legs onto the chair she was sitting on and hugged them. “It’s not nice to lie,” she said.

Darla laughed. “What about you isn’t cute?” she asked. Narrowing her eyes, she said, “I can see you’re trying to hide a birthmark behind your hair, but it’s not ugly. If anything, it makes you rather eye-catching.”

Sammy’s hand came to rest on her forehead. “Oh.”

Calliope bit her lip. Now was probably a good point to tell her friend how much she liked her smile, wasn’t it? “…I’ve never said, but your smile is beautiful, Sammy,” she told the girl. “It’s like an American movie star’s.”

“Really?” she asked, mouth splitting into a wide grin.

“Ah, Calliope is right!” Darla said, pointing at Sammy. “What beautiful teeth. You must take wonderful care of them,” she praised.

“Mum’s a hygienist,” said Sammy.

Calliope didn’t know what one of those were and a glance at Darla told Calliope she was just as clueless. However, she quickly recovered from her own puzzlement and said, “How lucky you’ve been.”

Sammy’s smile became even brighter and she looked as if she was going to say something, but, suddenly, Little Severus began to squirm. “Darla, Little Severus is moving,” she told her aunt, slightly alarmed as he began to make a small whining noise.

Darla’s attention instantly fixed on her son. “He must be waking up,” she said, holding out her hands to Calliope. “Hand him over here.” Gladly, Calliope put the baby in her aunt’s hands. Once she had Severus, she began to make shushing noises at him as she started to undo the buttons of her blouse with her free hand.

Slightly alarmed, Calliope asked, “What are you doing?”

Darla glanced away from Little Severus to give Calliope a bland look. “Preparing to nurse him,” she answered. Rolling her eyes, she said, “Come on, Calliope, it’s not like Edie hasn’t taught you this stuff.”

“In front of us, though?” she complained, glancing over at Sammy, who’d averted her eyes to the fireplace at some point.

Darla laughed as she freed one breast and brought Little Severus to it. “I watched Edie nurse you and the rest of the girls growing up,” she said. “It didn’t harm me.”

Calliope, face hot, looked to her lap. “Ergh, you’re embarrassing.”

“Oh, you can put up with one nursing session,” chided Darla as Little Severus began to make a very soft sucking sound. “I reckon you won’t have to watch too many more. The next time you see him, he might already be eating actual food and taking a bottle instead.”

Her ears pricked at that. Calliope didn’t know a  _ lot  _ about babies, but she was pretty sure they didn’t eat actual food until they began to be more people-like and less like lumps. “When do babies start to do that stuff?” she demanded.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Darla scrunch her nose. “Oh, six months?”

She frowned. “You said he’s a month old?” Calliope asked.

“Well, he’ll be a month and a half in a couple more days,” she replied.

Calliope felt dread wash over her. The length of time between a month and a half and six was the better part of a year. Did that mean she wouldn’t see Darla again for that long? She didn’t know if she could bear that. “Are you saying I won’t see you for another five months?” she demanded, unable to stop the dismay she was feeling from her tone.

Her aunt winced. “No, of course not,” she assured. I’m going to try very hard to see you at least every couple of months now. I’m just saying I might not be nursing during any of those visits. Babies eat fewer and fewer meals a day the older they grow.”

Calliope didn’t know if she could trust Darla’s explanation, but she wanted to. It did  _ seem  _ genuine, after all. She nodded. “I see.”

“Yes, I should think you do,” sniffed Darla as she leaned back to settle herself more comfortably against the arm of the sofa. A fresh grin on her face, she looked between Calliope and Sammy. “Now, tell me, Calliope, Sammy, how exactly did you two meet?”

She and Sammy exchanged a glance. “That’s a rather long story…” hedged Sammy.

Her aunt propped her cheek in her free hand and stared at the girl. “I have time,” she said.

Calliope sighed loudly and crossed her arms. She knew they weren’t going to get out of this. Darla was terribly persistent. Putting on a fierce glare, she said, “Okay, but don’t yell at us! We were very, very careful.”

“I’m sure,” she replied with a laugh.

Calliope looked to Sammy then, who nodded. Taking it as her cue to tell Darla, she began, “It starts like this for me…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This may be my longest chapter for a story in this series yet! How did you enjoy it? Getting a glimpse of the newly christened Severus II?
> 
> Thank you for reading and please let me know your thoughts with a comment and/or kudo :)


	8. Revelations

When Darla left her and Sammy, it was with the promise to be in contact soon.

“ _Don’t say anything to the Mulpeppers_ ,” she had warned Calliope with a strong grip on the back of her neck. “ _It’s a miracle no one has found out about Sammy. We need to make sure it stays that way until I and the Order can get her somewhere safe._ ”

Calliope had agreed with little trouble. She’d been keeping Sammy secret from everyone for so long already, what was another week or two? Once Darla and the newly christened Severus were gone, Sammy and she settled into a game of wizarding chess with Mr. Mulpepper’s set. As they played, they chatted idly about what their futures might soon look like. Calliope would soon be all alone in the Mulpeppers’ flat, bored and waiting for scraps of words from family and Sammy. As for Sammy, she’d probably be in some tiny cottage in the countryside with her sister and her sister’s boyfriend. There, she’d pass the hours making up for all the years she hardly knew her sister by learning all of her idiosyncrasies, from how her eyes twitch when she found something funny to the pitch of her morning yawn. The whole time Calliope wished they’d talk about something else, even about her maybe Death-Eater dad, but they didn’t. Instead, they only stopped when lunchtime drew near and Calliope knocked all their pieces from their game off the board with a swipe of her arm. Sammy was startled by her aggressive action and stared at her across the empty board, eyebrows hid fully by her fringe. Calliope pointed at the clock. “You need to leave,” she explained. “I suspect both Mulpeppers will be here for lunch very soon.”

“Right,” her friend agreed, smiling in a sheepish way. “Sorry.”

Calliope shrugged at her mate and together, they quickly put the game pieces and game away in silence. Before Sammy could throw her fistful of floo powder in the fireplace, however, Calliope stopped her with a hand atop her fingers. “Wait for a second,” she said. “I’ve got some cake for you.” Darting for the kitchen, she took the lid from the cake platter off and cut a piece from the cake and wrapped it in a napkin. Delivering it to her waiting mate, she forced a grin and said, “Thank you for your gifts.”

“Don’t thank me!” chided Sammy, putting the cake in the crook of one of her elbows. “You’ve helped me so much again today, like you always do, Calliope. If you hadn’t insisted I stay, who knows when I might see my sister again.”

“I would have still told Darla about you,” Calliope assured her. She’d just thought it would be helpful to have Sammy there to answer any questions her aunt may have had that Calliope didn’t know the answers for.

Leaning in, Sammy embraced her in a crushing hug. “Still,” she insisted. “I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

Calliope wanted to tell her no, she didn’t want to see Sammy. Yet she wouldn’t. Their days like this were numbered and when Sammy finally left, Calliope would regret not spending every last moment she could with her. “Okay,” she agreed. Calliope waved as Sammy stepped into the hearth and disappeared with a shout of Hagar Whittaker’s flat.

Going back to the kitchen, she put the glass dome back on top of the cake platter and washed the knife she used in the sink. As she did so, the door to the flat opened.

“Calliope?” called Mr. Mulpepper.

She breathed deeply and suppressed the urge to cry that had been bothering her since Darla left. Drying her hands on a dishtowel hung by the sink, she yelled, “I’m in the kitchen, Uncle Eugene!”

-o-O-o-

Calliope held her tongue between her teeth as she put the finishing touches on her latest still life drawing, a picture of the flowers Sammy gave her. Holding the drawing away from her, she admired the shading on the petals she’d done. To her, it looked almost exactly like it did in real life. Smiling in satisfaction, she tipped back in her room’s rocking hair and began to hum a light tune beneath her breath. As she paged through her sketchbook’s drawings, she marveled at how her drawings had improved since she arrived at the Mulpeppers. Perhaps she’d have to send a selection to Eileen by owl. Her sister would no doubt send her a list of pointers for improvement on all of them, but hopefully, she’d agree that Calliope had really improved too. Her admiring was cut short when Mrs. Mulpepper called, “Calliope, come here please!”

Hopping up from her rocking chair, Calliope put her book down on the seat and walked out of her bedroom. As she padded into the lounge room she started to ask, “What is it Aunt—” she stopped short when she saw standing by the fireplace was her grinning mum and sister. Running at them, she caused her mum to stumble backward into her sister with the force of her bug. “Edie! Essie!” she cried.

Her mum put a hand on the top of Calliope’s head and murmured, “Hello swee’.”

“Hi Calliope,” her sister said after their mum when Calliope peaked around Edie to look at Essie. She didn’t mean to, but she frowned at the teenager. Her sister looked off. Essie had and probably always would struggle with oily hair, but it looked she’d not washed it in a couple of days and her sweater under her robe was a bit wrinkled and a stain was near the collar. Seeming to realize she was being judged, Essie looked down.

Calliope sucked in a breath and pulled out of her mum’s hug. Trying to regain her excitement, she began to babble at the two of them all of the thoughts running through her head. “I’ve missed you both,” she said, earning a smile from Edie and Essie. “How long are you staying? What are we doing?” she asked, however, just as Edie started to answer, Calliope snapped her fingers and told them, “I got your gifts! I loved them so much.” She thrust a hand around their mum to show her sister her fingers. “Look, Essie, my fingernails are that bright pink color you sent. This is one you picked, isn’t it? I didn’t think Eileen would have chosen something so exciting.”

Mrs. Mulpepper, who’d been watching them all from the sofa, finally seemed to grow exasperated with Calliope dominating the conversation. “Merlin my dear girl, let your mother and sister get a word in!” she chided.

Calliope shut her mouth with a click. As her mum and sister stared over at Mrs. Mulpeper with wide eyes, apparently surprised by the rebuke, Calliope put on her most apologetic smile. “Sorry,” she said in a soft voice.

Edie’s gaze shifted to her. Gaze loving, she replied, “It’s quite all right, swee’.”

Essie came around their mum and took hold of Calliope’s hand. Lifting it, she stared at her fingers and said, “I picked that color, yeah. I’m glad you like it.” Giving a small, annoyed huff, she remarked, “I told Eileen to pick more vibrant stuff, but she wouldn’t listen.”

Calliope laughed. That sounded exactly like a row her sisters would have had. Smiling, she said, “I still like her paints, they go really well with the new dress the Mulpeppers gave me.”

“A new dress?” said Edie, eyes sparkling.

She nodded, excitement doubled. “I could put it on for you!” she offered.

“Why don’t yeh?” agreed her mother, one arm around her waist the elbow of her other resting on it as she stroked her scarred cheek. “Yeh can wear it while we go out ter Diagon ter see the jeweler about piercin’ yer ears.”

Calliope gasped aloud. They were going to go to _Diagon Alley_ together? _And_ were going to pierce her ears? Calliope began to hop around the room. “We’re piercing my ears!” she yelled. “This is so wicked!”

Edie and Mrs. Mulpepper began to laugh while Essie rolled her eyes at her. “Yes,” said her mum after a little bit of cheering. Expression suddenly stern, she explained, “tha’s all we have time fer this evening.”

She stopped bouncing and stared at Edie with disappointment she couldn’t hide. She’d been hoping they would have dinner together while they were in Diagon. Maybe go to a shop or two and have a nice time together window shopping. “Really?” she whispered.

“Showing up for dinner is mandatory now,” supplied Essie, tucking a limp clump of air behind her ear.

She shifted her attention to Edie, who was looking sadly at Essie. “Even for you, Edie?” she asked.

She pursed her lips. “I suppose it isn’t,” she admitted. Hazel eyes growing more gray than gold, she said, “but fer yer father, I go.”

“Oh.”

Essie shook her head and came around their mum to grab Calliope by her shoulders and turn her away from them. “So shake a broomstick, Calliope! Get dressed,” she ordered. Voice teasing, Essie added, “Maybe if we hurry we can pop into the sweet shop and buy a treat on our way back here.”

Calliope laughed. “Right!” she agreed. Sprinting for her room, she called, “I’ll be back quick!”

-o-O-o-

Sitting on either side of the kitchen table, their latest potion steeping between them, Sammy drawled, “Sooo, any news from Darla?”

Calliope crossed her arms and looked away from her mate’s face to the window above the kitchen’s sink. “No.”

“Oh,” Sammy whispered.

To assuage the twinge of guilt in her chest, she told Sammy in a bid to comfort her, “I didn’t hear from her very often before her visit, just a letter once a month, maybe.”

“…It’s been nearly two weeks,” her friend murmured, slumping in her chair a little.

Calliope bit her lip as she looked over Sammy’s dejected shape. “Darla said it could take a month,” she reminded her friend with as much delicateness as she could.

Below her fringe, Sammy’s eyes grew dark and stormy. “I know that!” she snapped, all but leaping from her chair. Now on her feet, she sighed. Fingers idly pushing a bottle about on the table, she hunched her shoulders around her ears and mumbled, “I just… hoped.”

Calliope swallowed around the lump in her throat and managed to croak out, “Yeah.” Her guilt was back ten-fold. While her mate had been wishing and hoping for a speedy reply from Darla, she’d been praying for the exact opposite. All because she just wanted to have a mate around a little longer.

Sammy swiped an arm across her eyes and then looked up. Meeting Calliope’s gaze, she declared with surprising ferocity, “I want to talk about Death-Eaters.”

“Why?” sputtered Calliope.

“Because I don’t know hardly anything about them!”

A new, uneasy feeling mixing with the guilt inside of her, Calliope asked, “What do you want to know about them?”

Sammy sat back down and put her arms on the table. She tilted her head and squinted her eyes up at the ceiling. “Everything?” she said.

At first, she didn’t know what to say. Calliope didn’t know everything about them. Just _some_ stuff. To test for the depth of an answer Sammy wanted from her, Calliope gave her the most basic explanation she knew. “They’re bad guys.”

Sammy glowered at her. “Calliope.”

“What?” she snapped, annoyed by her friend’s disgruntled reaction. “What do you want me to tell you?” she demanded, slapping her hands down on the kitchen table and making the cauldron with their potion shake. “They kill, torture, and ruin people. They’re why the Ministry is trying to send all the Muggle-borns to Azkaban. They’ve forced my aunt to go into hiding and are why your sister has to be on the run.” Turning away from the table, she threw her hands up and yelled, “I hate talking about them!”

Sammy didn’t say anything for a minute. When Calliope turned back around to look at her friend, her expression was tense, yet thoughtful. “Are they who were out on the street that one day?” she asked.

Calliope shook her head. “No, those were Snatchers. They work for the Ministry directly.”

“Oh,” replied Sammy. She scrunched her face. “Should… Should I worry about either of them finding me?”

“I don’t think so?” Calliope offered with open hands turned upward. “You’ve been safe for months. We just need to get you away from here soon if we can to make sure you stay okay.”

“I understand,” said Sammy as if she really did, though, Calliope doubted it. Calliope wasn’t really sure _she_ understood, but if Darla thought it was best, it meant it had to be done. Turning their conversation on a new tangent once again, Sammy asked, “Hey, can you tell me why your aunt is hiding from them again?” 

She shoved her hands behind her back to hide the way they were starting to shake. “She told the Bones boys, whose parents were murdered by a few Death Eaters in the last war, which ones did it,” she explained. “They think she could know more and want to kill her to stop her from putting targets on their members’ backs.”

Sammy’s brows came together with confusion “How did she know who killed their parents?”

Tears pricked at the back of her eyes. This was it. Sammy was going to know her dad was one of the Death-Eaters. One of the people who’d kill her without a second glance.

Concern overcame her friend’s face when she saw that her eyes had grown glassy. “Calliope?” she called, tentative.

“…Sev,” she choked out.

“Sev?” echoed Sammy in a perplexed tone. Before Calliope could say anything else, her friend nodded to herself, face smoothing. “Oh, right, your dad. He told her? Why?”

Calliope blinked hard to keep the tears in her eyes from falling. “He didn’t,” she whispered.

“Then how…?”

She sucked in a shuddering breath. “Wizards and witches can take their memories from their heads and put them in vials and watch them in these bowls called Pensieves,” she explained. This time, even her rapid-fire blinks couldn’t stop her tears as she admitted to Sammy, “Sev was there for the Bones murders and Darla saw the memory.”

As expected, Sammy’s concerned, confused expression turned to one of outright distraught. “Why didn’t he try to stop their murders?” she decried. “How’d he survive?” she demanded before Calliope could answer. A grimace crossed her lips as she asked yet another question, “Did he run away when it was happening?” Eyeing Calliope, she asked, “Why didn’t _he_ tell their sons himself?”

Calliope can’t look at Sammy anymore. “If he tried to stop it, they would have killed him,” she told the girl. “He didn’t tell Stephen and George because… because…” she couldn’t help herself any longer, she started to sob.

“Oh, Calliope!” Sammy exclaimed. Calliope heard, not saw, her friend get up from her chair. She flinched when Sammy tried to hug her. “I’m sorry,” her friend said after pulling back. “I can ask other questions I have if this upsets you too much.”

“You’re going to find out soon enough anyway!” Calliope said in a trembling voice. “I might as well tell you now!” Looking up and meeting her soon-to-be-ex-mate’s worried gaze, Calliope told her, “Sev’s probably a Death-Eater. He was there as one when the Bones parents were killed and he killed the Headmaster at Hogwarts last spring!”

Sammy stumbled back a step, mouth falling wide open.“What?”

She wiped the snot from under nose away with the heel of her hand and turned her stare to her lap. She didn’t want to look at Sammy anymore. There would be no more kindness there for her she was sure. “He’s my dad, but I don’t think he’s a hero,” she said. “I don’t want him to be a villain either, but I know that doesn’t mean anything.”

“Your dad… You said he’s the headmaster at Hogwarts before, right?” Sammy asked.

Calliope didn’t look away from her knees, but she nodded all the same.

Sammy sounded entirely disbelieving as she said, “He killed the old one and instead of being sent to prison, they made him the new headmaster? Parents were okay with that? Is that how things _work_ here?” 

“Parents didn’t get a say,” Calliope bit out. If they did, her dad would have been their second to last choice (who was she trying to fool? They would have definitely chosen Professor Binns over Sev). “It’s not how it usually works either,” she said. “He _should_ have gone to Azkaban. Families should have kept their kids home when he didn’t. Right now, if you’re a witch or wizard, it’s mandatory you attend unless you’re pretty much too ill to move.”

Sammy was silent for the longest time and Calliope had to resist the urge to look up. She knew what would be there, what was the point? Did she _really_ want to actually know what hate looked like on Sammy’s face? Especially when it was directed at her?

“God, this is Hell, isn’t?” Sammy uttered, voice thready and faint. “My sister’s taken me to Hell. What did I do that was so wrong?”

She curled her hands into fists atop her knees. Hell? This wasn’t Hell, it was _home_. Broken maybe, but it could be fixed. People like from the Order and Harry were trying to do just that. Through gritted teeth, she ground out, “This isn’t Hell. It’s war.”

“It looks the same to me,” Sammy said with no small amount of anger.

Trembling, Calliope gathered her courage and lifted her face for the first time since she admitted to what her dad was. Thankfully, the other girl wasn’t looking at her, but behind Calliope. “You can leave now if you want to,” she said.

Sammy’s gaze snapped to her, bafflement clear in her tone as she repeated, “Leave?”

She nodded and forced her voice to be steady as she said, “Yes. I know you want to. My dad’s a Death-Eater and Death-Eaters want you dead.”

The other girl crossed her arms and glared at her. “Do _you_ want me dead?” she demanded.

“No!” she shouted, horrified at the very thought of her ex-mate being such.

Sammy nodded, seemingly satisfied. “Then I’ve got no reason to leave.”

“You heard me didn’t you?” she asked after a beat, unsure if it had really sunk in for Sammy yet that Calliope was the daughter of a murderer. 

“Uh-huh,” replied Sammy, almost smiling at her. “I also know you’ve always been nice to me, even when I get cross because you don’t understand everything I say. You give me food to eat so I don’t have to take Mrs. Hagar’s as much. You let me be here when your aunt visited and have her helping me reunite with my sister.” Coming close, Sammy grabbed her hands before she could pull away. “Calliope, I know _you_ aren’t a Death-Eater.”

“Sammy!” she cried, wrenching her hands from her friend’s grip to throw them around her neck instead.

“Oh, oh, it’s okay Calliope,” assured the other girl, patting her back.

Calliope bawled even harder. Sammy wasn’t going to give up on her. She still wanted her to be her friend. Clutching her even tighter, she whimpered, “But it isn’t!”

Sammy sighed. “No, I guess not,” she agreed. Pulling Calliope off of her, Sammy looked her in the eyes and said, “ _We_ are, though, all right? We’re mates, no, _best_ mates.”

“Best mates?” she whispered, awed that Sammy could so easily decide such a thing after what she’d just found out.

The other girl grinned. “Yes.”

Calliope threw her arms around Sammy for another hug. “I love you, Sammy,” she said into her hair.

A feather-light hand was placed on her back as Sammy giggled. “That’s the second time you’ve told me you do,” she said.

“It’s because I do,” Calliope said as she leaned back to assess her friend. She frowned. “Don’t mates say that to each other?”

Sammy looked away. “Er, well, I dunno…”

Maybe they didn’t then? Sammy had to have more experience with friends than her. All of Calliope’s were Darla, her sisters, and Darla and her sisters’ mates. “Sorry,” she said, “I say it to my sisters a lot, who are like mates in a lot of ways, I thought—”

“No!” cut in Sammy, practically shouting. As she went stiff, Sammy sighed. “No, Calliope,” she repeated. “It’s okay.” She smiled, cheeks taking on a bashful pink. “It’s nice. No one I know says it much. Not even my parents to each other.”

She blinked. Edie and Sev didn’t say it _a lot_ , but they did. And to her, her sisters, and Darla they said it even more often. “Really?” she said.

Sammy shrugged and said nothing.

Calliope decided that wasn’t going to do. Grabbing her friend’s hand, she promised, “I’ll say it whenever I feel it. Is that good?”

“Yeah,” she agreed, voice thick. “I’ll— I’ll try to do the same thing, okay?”

She nodded, feeling warmed by her best friend’s words. “Brilliant, Sammy.”


	9. Late-Night Commotion

She was in a potions laboratory, it looked very much like Sev’s, but not like it as well. It was sparse and there were windows all around the room. Sev’s only had one small window on the east-facing wall and it was cluttered with potions ingredients and books everywhere. Calliope blinked and suddenly she was in front of a copper cauldron. Leaning her head nearer to it, she saw inside the cauldron was a black, tar-like potion. She blinked again. On the other side of the cauldron was Sammy. She was staring at Calliope with a strangely flat look.

“This will kill him,” she said.

Calliope frowned. “Kill who?”

Sammy, expression still flat said, “Who do you think?”

“Voldemort?” she whispered.

She nodded. “Everything can go back to normal then.”

Once, that would have been all that she wanted. Now, Calliope didn’t want everything back to exactly normal. “You’ll still be my friend, won’t you?” she asked.

Sammy didn’t answer and she was going to ask again, but, before she could, Sammy disappeared and the scene around her faded to black. She found herself blinking her eyes again, but, this time, it was the fuzzy scene of her bedroom, and Mrs. Mulpepper’s concerned face that greeted her.

“Calliope?” she whispered.

“Aunt Maisie?” she mumbled, shifting beneath her blankets to sit up. “What is it?”

The old woman sighed and looked to the open doorway of Calliope’s room. “The floo,” she answered. “Someone is trying to come through, your Uncle Eugene has gone to investigate.”

Her heart, which had been previously sluggish, began to beat faster than the wings of a snitch. “Come through?” she exclaimed in a whispered-shout. “It’s the middle of the night!”

Mrs. Mulpepper smoothed a hand down Calliope's bed-ruffled locks. “I know, dear girl,” she said. Looking her straight in the eye, her touch grew heavy as she told Calliope, “You need to stay here, understood?”

She nodded. “Yes, Aunt Maisie.”

The woman’s gaze softened and she rose to her feet. Before she could leave the room and close the door, however, Mr. Mulpepper, in his dressing-gown, appeared in the doorway. His expression was somewhere between livid and bewildered. 

“Maisie, is Calliope awake?” he demanded in a low tone.

Mrs. Mulpepper’s hands fluttered around her face briefly before she exclaimed, “Oh, Eugene! You startled me.” 

Calliope slipped out of her bed. She didn’t think they were going to want her to stay here any longer. “I’m awake Uncle Eugene, Aunt Maisie woke me up when she came in,” she explained, stepping up beside the old woman.

He turned his gaze on her and even in the dim light, she could see he was very cross. At _her_. Calliope swallowed and sidled slightly behind Mrs. Mulpepper. “I need you to come here this instant, young lady,” he said. Reaching around Mrs. Mulpepper, he took her by the wrist none-too-gently and started to lead her out of her room. Mrs. Mulpepper was quickly on their heels as he explained to them, “There is a little girl calling us and she is insisting she must talk to you.”

Calliope frowned. “A little—” she stopped and gasped as realization dawned on her. “Sammy!” she cried. She tore away from Mr. Mulpepper and ran to the lounge room and fireplace.

“Calliope!” Mr. Mulpepper yelled after her, but she ignored him in favor of getting herself in front of the hearth. Once there, she saw Sammy’s anxious face in the flames. “Sammy!” she shouted.

“Calliope!” she called back, some of the tightness around her eyes fading for a moment before it came back tenfold. “We need to come through,” she whimpered, “please, tell your uncle to let us come through.”

“What? Why?” she sputtered. Wrinkling her nose, Calliope asked, “Who’s us?”

“Me and the Whittakers!” said Sammy. She bit her lip and looked to the side as if she was looking at somebody else. “Things have gone sideways, it’s not safe for us to be here.”

She breathed in and out. Calliope could see that things really _were_ bad for her mate. “Let me talk to them,” she replied. Turning, she looked over at her Mr. and Mrs. Mulpepper who were just out of sight of the hearth and Sammy. The two were holding hands, mouths pulled into identical thin, severe scowls. She knew she was in very, very big trouble. However, Calliope could not focus on that now. Sammy was in danger. “Uncle Eugene, Sammy’s my mate, she and the Whittakers need to come to our flat right now,” she explained to them. With as much forcefulness as she could convey, she told the Mulpeppers, “They aren’t safe.”

Mr. Mulpepper let go of Mrs. Mulpepper and came to stand beside her. He was facing Calliope but looked at Sammy out of the corner of his eye. “And if they come through, will _we_ be safe?” he demanded. Voice gentling slightly, he said, “Calliope, I swore to your parents you would be protected here.”

“Sammy, let me,” a scratchy, hoarse man’s voice said from the hearth. Calliope watched Sammy’s face disappear and a young man’s appear. She stumbled back. He looked quite awful. His hair stuck to his forehead, he had an unkempt beard, and there was a gash below one eye and the other was half-shut and swollen.

“Ah, Emmett!” cried Mr. Mulpepper, gaping at the man Calliope now knew was Emmett, Sammy’s sister’s boyfriend.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Mulpepper,” the man croaked. “You three may not be safe if you let us into your home.” He put a badly shaking hand over his heart as he blinked his good eye rapidly at them. “ I swore to someone myself I’d keep Sammy safe,” he explained. Voice shaking like his hands, he begged, “If you won’t take all of us, take her, _please_.”

“Emmett, Merlin, boy!” Mrs. Mulpepper said as she came up beside her husband. Grabbing at Mr. Mulpepper’s dressing-robe, she pleaded, “Eugene, let them through. He looks just dreadful.”

The old man glanced from her to Calliope, to Emmett. “Maisie, Calliope—”

“I’ll take her to the Diagon Alley apothecary,” Mrs. Mulpepper cut in over him. “We can hide her in the cellar until this is passed.”

She gasped. That wouldn’t do! This wasn’t a time for her to be elsewhere, she _needed_ to be here. “No, I need to be here for Sammy!” she argued.

Mrs. Mulpepper’s head whipped around and she glared down at her. “This is not up for debate, Calliope,” she scolded.

As Calliope shrank back, Mr. Mulpepper sighed. “I’m going to let you come through, Emmett,” he said. Taking out his wand, he waved it at them in a semi-threatening manner and warned them, “But I expect the truth from you, this Sammy, _and_ your mother!”

Emmett visibly sagged. “Of course, sir, thank you.”

“I know things too, don’t you want to ask me stuff?” Calliope demanded as they stepped back from the fireplace to let the three through.

“Oh, we will be asking _many_ questions. However, that will come _later,_ ” said Mrs. Mulpepper as she wrapped a hand around Calliope’s wrist and began to pull her away and back toward the bedrooms. “Come along, let’s get you a robe. The cellar might be a bit cool.”

“Aunt Maisie!” she complained as she dug her heels into the floor and tried to stop them from re-entering Calliope’s room.

“No, Calliope,” the woman snapped, “come along this instant.” She yanked on Calliope then until the girl stumbled into her bedroom. Once inside, Mrs. Mulpepper blocked Calliope from being able to leave with her body. Glaring at her, she ordered, “Pick a robe now.”

“Aunt Maisie, Sammy has to be scared,” she wheedled. “She’ll explain better if I’m here.”

“No.”

Calliope clasped her hands together and raised them in the air. “But—”

“Calliope, either you pick your robe, or I will!” she shouted at her, drowning out Calliope’s whining.

She blinked. Shocked by the unusually harsh tone from the old woman. She’d never yelled at her like that before. Reluctant and pouting, Calliope dragged herself over to her wardrobe. “Fine!” she huffed as she threw the doors open with a loud clatter. Wrenching out the first robe she saw, she turned around and was going to stomp around as she looked for a pair of shoes, but stopped short. 

On the floor, next to her bed, was No-Ears. He looked sad in the dim light filtering in past Mrs. Mulpepper from the hallway. She bit her lip. If she couldn’t be there for her mate, maybe she could at least leave her with something to hold? “…Can I give Sammy No-Ears and say goodbye before you take me?” she asked in a small, meek voice. 

The old woman’s anger faded a little and she lowered her hands to her sides from where they’d been placed on her hips. Looking behind her and then back at Calliope she nodded. “Yes, but _quickly._ ”

Calliope seized on her chance. Yanking on her robe, she ran past Mrs. Mulpepper who’d just barely stepped out of her path, and to the living room. She stopped short when she saw Mr. Mulpepper and a middle-aged woman helping a badly trembling young man to sit on the room’s sofa. Was that Emmett? What had happened to him?

Her attention was ripped away, however, when Sammy called, “Calliope!”

Turning her head, she saw Sammy standing by the hearth, eyes wide and teary. She rushed over to her friend and hugged her. “Thank Merlin,” she breathed into her messy plait.”

“He just — just — _appeared_ !” she said. “He told Mrs. Hagar we needed to go and she was yelling and I ended up having to _scream_ to get them to listen to me.”

“Then you called us?” Calliope asked, knowing what the answer would be.

She nodded. “Emmett wanted us to leave. I thought… Well, no one knows we’re friends, besides us and Darla.”

“We were a good stopping point,” she agreed. “You were very clever to make them come here. Mr. Mulpepper will know how to get in contact with Darla, or somebody who can contact her, anyway.”

Some of the wildness in Sammy’s eyes faded and she smiled shyly. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” she replied. Behind her, she heard Mrs. Mulpepper clear her throat. She glanced back and saw the old woman had her arms crossed and one brow cocked. Calliope sighed. “I’m not allowed to stay here,” she said, shooting a scowl at Mrs. Mulpepper. “‘Cause I can’t be, I’m giving you No-Ears.”

“What?” said Sammy, startled. “But you’ve had him since you were a baby, you said.”

She shrugged. Calliope would miss having him but felt Sammy needed him more than her. Who knew how lonely she’d be or what kinds of sadness and fright she was going to soon face? Having No-Ears to cuddle would be helpful for her. Even if it was just a very tiny bit. “You need him more right now,” she said. Then, smiling told her, “If you want to give him back, it means you’ll have to find me again, okay?”

Sammy’s eyes sparked. Calliope knew she understood. Smiling slightly herself, she said, “Okay.” Leaning in, she hugged Calliope hard enough to make her wheeze. “I’ll miss you,” she whispered.

“Me too,” replied Calliope before she pulled back.

Mrs. Mulpepper held out her hand to Calliope. “May we leave now?”

She sighed. “Yes,” she answered going and taking the old woman’s hand. A moment later, the pull of disapparation started behind her belly button and the lounge room and its guests disappeared.

-o-O-o-

“Calliope?” an oddly familiar voice whispered.

She squeezed her eyes closed tighter and buried her face in her arms. “Hmph!” she grumbled as a finger started to prod at her.

There was a sigh. “Oh, come on, the floor can’t be _that_ comfortable,” chastised the familiar voice as a pair of hands grabbed her around the middle and pulled her up. Calliope, now wide-eyed, stared into the tired, annoyed face of her aunt. 

She brought the heels of her hands to her eyes and pressed down hard. When she pulled them away, Darla was still in front of Calliope. She was still holding her. Calliope still didn’t believe it. “…Is this real?” she whispered.

A furrow came between Darla’s brows. “Is this real?” she echoed only to roll her eyes a moment later. “Of course it is!” she exclaimed. Exasperated by Calliope, she gave her cheek a hard pinch. “Silly girl!”

“Ow,” she complained as she batted away the hand. Pouting at her aunt, she grumbled, “Darla.”

Her aunt grinned. “Hello, Calliope.”

Looking around the neat, but very full Diagon Alley apothecary cellar and then back at Darla, she said,“You’re here.”

Her aunt laughed. “I am!” she agreed. Moving to sit down next to Calliope, Darla put her hands in her lap and explained, “Mrs. Mulpepper agreed to mind Severus for me in return for retrieving you.”

“I reckon that wasn’t a hard trade to make,” said Calliope, smirking at Darla. Then, a feeling of pensiveness overcoming her, she admitted in a whisper, “I think they’re very cross with me.”

“Well…” Darla stammered, shifting uncomfortably beside her. She exhaled and dragged her fingers through her hair, glancing at Calliope as she did so. “Yes, they are,” she agreed. Calliope’s lip started to tremble, but before she could actually start crying from guilt, Darla grabbed her and dragged her in for a strong hug. “But!” she all but shouted in Calliope’s ear. “They understand, okay?”

She squinted up at her aunt. “Do they?”

“Of course, Calliope,” assured Darla, smoothing down Calliope’s hair. “They know how precarious Sammy’s situation was.”

Calliope reflected on her aunt’s words. She nodded, feeling both satisfied and miserable. “Was,” she echoed. “So she’s somewhere safe now?” she asked.

Darla dipped her chin. “Her and the Whittakers are all in very safe accommodations now.”

“What about Amber?” demanded Calliope, not missing for a second that the witch had not been in Darla’s answer. “Sammy’s sister?” she elaborated in case Darla didn’t remember the two’s relationship. “Is she with them yet? Or do you still need to find her?” At her aunt’s continued silence, she reached over to clutch her arm. “Emmett looked just terrible!” she said, recalling his injuries and how badly he’d been shaking as he came through the floo. She sucked her lower lip between her teeth. “I bet they got separated during whatever fight they were in.”

Darla who’d been frighteningly silent as Calliope babbled at her, hugged her tighter if it were possible. “Oh, Calliope…” she murmured.

“What?” demanded Calliope, terrified. “What, Darla?” What had happened to Amber?

Her aunt finally meets her gaze. When she does, all of the breath leaves her lungs. Darla’s eyes are heartbroken. “Amber is dead,” she said.

“No,” Calliope uttered. She couldn’t believe it. Didn’t want to. Not Amber. Not _Sammy_ ’s sister.

Darla practically pulled Calliope into her lap as she explained, “The group she and Emmett were traveling with in the country was found by Snatchers. They tried to fight back, but… Well, it didn’t end happily for their side. The only reason Emmett got away is because _our_ people who were looking for them stumbled across the mess.”

She looked up at Darla, upset and more than a little cross. “Your Order people missed finding Amber and Emmett by what, an _hour_?”

“…Yes,” she whispered.

“That’s not fair!” cried Calliope.

Darla just held on to her as she tried to squirm away. “I know,” she mumbled into Calliope’s hair.

Cheeks wet, she whimpered, “Sammy was supposed to get to know her sister in hiding! Amber was supposed to get to know _her_!”

“I’m sorry, Calliope.”

Crying harder, she said, “It was knowing she’d get to be with Amber that kept her from being utterly miserable with Mrs. Whittaker.”

Darla finally let her go, but only long enough for her to get a fresh grip on Calliope. Their eyes met and Darla’s gaze was determined as she said, “Emmett isn’t going to let Mrs. Whittaker make Sammy miserable any longer.”

“Is he really?” demanded Calliope, crossing her arms. She wanted to believe her, but how could that sickly looking man stop a fly from buzzing by his ear let alone Mrs. Whittaker from insulting Sammy? “He looked absolutely dreadful when I saw him.”

Darla pursed her lips. After what looked like a long moment of deliberation, she admitted to Calliope, “…He was on the wrong end of a too-long Cruciatus curse, but I checked him out. He’s going to recover mostly.”

“Mostly?” she repeated. That didn’t sound promising at all.

“You’re not a little girl any longer, Calliope,” her aunt said, looking her up and down. “I’m going to be honest with you,” she declared and Calliope sat up a little straighter. Finally, Darla was done hiding things from her all of the time anymore. “I don’t have a great deal of experience with the trauma of a Cruciatus Curse. Sometimes, it drives people mad, like with Neville Longbottom’s parents,” she explained to Calliope, who nodded along. She’d heard about the Longbottoms. It was a sad story, but she’d been told they had been lucky. At least they were alive, unlike the Bones’ parents or Harry’s birth family. “Yet Emmett seems to have kept his wits,” she said, brows drawing together, “it’s his shaking that has me concerned. I think if it doesn’t fade away in the next few days he might always have a bit of a tremor.”

Calliope frowned. She saw a lot of problems in Emmett’s future if that was true. “That’s not good. How’s he going to cast spells?”

Darla looked away. “It’s difficult to say.”

It seemed like to Calliope he _wouldn’t_ be casting spells if he had a lasting tremor. Darla just didn’t want to say it for whatever reason. However, as worried as she was for Emmett’s future as a wizard, it was the nearer future that had most fretful. “You’re sure he’ll make sure Sammy’s treated well?”

Her aunt nodded, almost, but not quite, smiling. “Sammy was Amber’s baby sister. He couldn’t stop crying when he told us what happened to her. The last thing he’s going to stand for is for his mother hurting his love’s sister.”

“He could have tremors _for life_ ,” she reminded Darla, giving her a deeply unimpressed look.

Darla rolled her eyes. “Mrs. Whittaker took Sammy in because her son threatened to never see her again.” She smiled and took one of Calliope’s hands in her own and gave it a light squeeze. “Emmett can still use that threat and it will work. Mrs. Whittaker does not want to lose her son.”

Calliope still had her doubts, but Darla seemed quite convinced. If she were lucky, her aunt was right too. “I guess Sammy’s gone already, huh?” she mused, changing subjects.

Darla winced. “Yeah, sorry.”

“How much longer will you be around?” she asked, cogs whirling in her head.

“I’m supposed to bring you back to the Mulpeppers, take Severus, and go,” Darla told her, glancing at her wrist, which was adorned with a pretty, silver-band watch.

“D’you think we can go upstairs and I can write a letter to Sammy for you to pass on to her?” she asked, anxious. “Before we go?”

Her aunt sighed and looked one more time at the watch. “Okay, Calliope,” she agreed. “But you have to be quick about it.”

Grinning brilliantly at her aunt, she declared, “I will be.”

-O-

_Sammy,_

_Darla has told me about your sister. I know sorry will never be enough to make you feel better. I never had the chance to tell you, I didn’t want to, really, because it hurts, but I’ve lost an older sister too. Not like you have. Lottie’s death was an accident. I do know what it’s like to feel like you’ll never know your sister, though. I was little when she died. My memories of her become fewer with every birthday and I hate it. I hate I won’t ever have new ones, that my last one of her is of squabbling over a piece of sausage at breakfast._

_I wish I could be with you. I wish I could make you feel less alone and take away a little of your pain. During this time you’re going through is when friends are supposed to be there for you the most. I’m sorry I can’t be. Please, hang on. Hold tight to No-Ears. I will write to you as much as I can. When this damn war is over, I will find you. I will hug you. I will cry with you. I won’t let anyone stop me from being with you. Being your best mate._

_Love,_

_Calliope_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading and please let me know your thoughts with a comment and/or kudo :)


	10. Winter Comforts

After Darla left with Severus, the Mulpeppers sat her down at the kitchen table and explained the new restrictions she would be living under. Calliope would no longer have access to the floo network. It was closed off to the flat with a charm during the daytime and if anyone fire called or asked to come through, it would be re-routed to the shop's hearth. The Mulpeppers hadn't felt comfortable taking anything from her as a punishment because being stuck in a flat for days and days on end was already like a punishment (even if they did their best to make it if not enjoyable, comfortable). They had also placed age-lines by all of the windows. Calliope could only come within a half-foot of them now, which limited her ability to look out but also to communicate with anyone through them.

She hadn't cared. The one she wanted to communicate with was gone. What would be the point of getting that near the windows anyway? Or messing with the floo network? Calliope was fine with her new restrictions. The Mulpeppers appeared to realize this too, as they'd shared uneasy looks when she didn't show much of a reaction. What else was there to do, though? She'd lost the one thing that had was making her days bearable. The Mulpeppers couldn't do much else to make it worse. So they left it at that and assured her that in spite of all she'd done, she was still loved.

Calliope appreciated their reassurance.

She reminded herself of it when she watched, from a distance, as McHavelock's was raided and burned three days later. The Mulpeppers loved Calliope. They loved her even though, in some small way, she, and in a greater way, her family had brought this horror show to their storefront and home.

-o-O-o-

The McHavelock's a burned-out husk glaring at them through the open window of the Mulpepper's lounge room, Calliope approached Mr. Mulpepper. Hands clenched in the fabric of her skirt, she waited for him to lower his paper before she said, "Uncle Eugene?"

"Yes, Calliope?" he replied, his wrinkles curving upward from the small smile that had come to his lips.

She licked her lips. There was a chance he would say no, but she needed to at least _see_ if he would agree. Sammy had yet to reply to the half-dozen letters she'd been able to send her. Maybe… Maybe this would finally get her an answer. "Can I have the ingredients to make a photo development potion?" asked.

He sighed and folded his paper into a square. After putting it aside, he answered, "You may, but why?"

Calliope looked to her feet and began to fidget with her skirt anew. "I borrowed your camera to take a few pictures of me and Sammy when she would visit," she explained. "I always meant for us to brew the potion together, but…"

There was the sound of the man getting up and when Calliope finally peeked through her hair, she saw Mr. Mulpepper was looking down at her with kind eyes. "I understand," he said, reaching forward and squeezing her shoulder with one of his surprisingly strong hands. "We can brew it together."

"Thank you, Uncle Eugene," she said, showing all of her teeth in a grateful grin to him.

-o-O-o-

On Boxing day, Mrs. Mulpepper came into the kitchen where Calliope was drawing a new picture at the room's table. The old woman, wearing the new bracelet Mr. Mulpepper had gifted her yesterday, shook her parchment-filled hand with a smile.

"I have a letter from Darla for you," she said as she slipped into the seat across from Calliope.

Smiling, she reached for the letter. Looking down at it, she saw it was extra thick. "Oh!" she exclaimed, delighted. Perhaps Darla had slipped some kind of gift inside her envelope alongside her letter. Calliope hoped it was something fun. Just before she was going to rip it open, however, a thought came to her. It'd been almost a week since she sent Sammy some of the photos she and Mr. Mulpepper developed. She knew it wasn't always easy to pass letters along, but she had to think if she had written some kind of reply, it would have arrived alongside Darla's letter.

She looked up at the old woman who was watching her with joyful eyes. Calliope hated that she was going to ruin her good mood. Yet… She had to ask. Just in case. "Is there one from Sammy as well?" she questioned.

The light in the old woman's eyes faded and she shook her head. "…No, I'm sorry, dear girl."

Calliope sighed. "It's okay," she assured Mrs. Mulpepper. Tracing the seal on Darla's letter, she said, "She's probably… sad." Calliope knew that really didn't encompass the deep ache her friend had to be experiencing right now, but it's what Sev used to tell her Edie was the summer after Lottie died. That was how she imagined Sammy was like right now.

Mrs. Mulpepper made a soft clucking noise. "Yes, the poor thing is going through a very difficult time," she agreed.

Putting Darla's still unopened letter down on the table, she looked over at the old woman and admitted, "It's stupid, maybe selfish too? But I'd hoped the photos I sent her at Christmas would make her feel just a little enough better to at least send a thank-you note."

The old woman reached across the table and took both of Calliope's hands between her cold fingers. "It's not stupid or selfish, Calliope," she told her, squeezing her fingers to make Calliope look at her. "That was a very lovely gift you sent Sammy."

"Thanks, Aunt Maisie."

Mr. Mulpepper let her hands go and cast her eyes away. "I… I know this hard for you," she started, "but we have to keep in mind what she's going through is absolutely isolating." Eyes misty, the old woman whispered, "Before last spring, she was leading such a different life… Now, she's in this one and it isn't kind." Blinking rapidly, Mrs. Mulpepper, brought a thumb to her eyes and wiped away tears before they could spill down her face. "Trying to cope and adapt to the change probably takes more energy out of her than we can understand."

Calliope nodded. That sounded right to her. It was what she told herself too. "I know," she said. Then after a bit of hesitation, admitted, "Or I try to." She looked down in her lap and mumbled, "Sometimes, though, I feel very cross. I don't want anything much, just to know she's still alive."

"It's okay to feel that way," assured Mrs. Mulpepper, one of her cold hands stroking Calliope's cheek and drawing her gaze to her once again. "This isn't just a difficult time for Sammy."

"It is for everyone," agreed Calliope.

The old woman's frown deepened and her voice grew softer, more gentle, as she replied, "For _you_ , dear girl."

She didn't know what to say. Yes, life was difficult for Calliope. She knew though in comparison to Sammy, to so many others, her life was still charmed. Calliope was somewhere safe with people who loved her, who were caring for her. Others didn't have that. Others were _dying_. So, she just looked at her letter and said, "…Yeah."

"Chin up, hm?" Mrs. Mulpepper prompted, giving Calliope's a tap. "Edie promised both your sisters could visit you for New Year's Eve. I also have heard they will have a very special gift for you from your father."

She smiled at the reminder. When she'd gotten the news a few days ago, Calliope had spent the rest of the day pretty much floating. A visit from _both_ her sisters was a rare delight. "I am excited to see them."

"Have you thought about what kind of things you'd like me to make for you three?" asked the old woman with warm eyes.

She tapped her chin in thought. "Eccles cakes?" she suggested. "I know Eileen always liked those a lot."

She nodded. "I can do that."

Calliope grinned. "Oh! And sausage rolls," she added. "Those are _my_ favorite."

Mrs. Mulpepper laughed as she got to her feet. "Yes, dear girl, of course."

-o-O-o-

"Essie, Eileen!" yelled as her sisters walked into the Mulpepper's lounge room. As her sisters turned toward her, she scrutinized them. Essie didn't look quite as poorly as the last time she saw her, her hair looked freshly washed and she was wearing a nice dress. One that may have been Darla's once-upon-a-time with a few alterations.

Eileen seemed well enough too. Tired, maybe, and there was what appeared to be some scabbing from a cut that ran from the bridge of her nose to her cheek beneath her right eye. Like Essie, she was wearing a pretty dress. Calliope pursed her lips. Dressing up still didn't hide that they were unusually pale.

"Hello, Calliope," Essie replied, smiling.

Eileen, at the same time as Essie, said, "It's good to see you."

"You two look ill," she declared, bringing attention to their appearances.

Essie looked away from her and Eileen laughed (to Calliope, it sounded forced). "Oh, we're fine," she assured Calliope.

She crossed her arms, doubtful of her sister's reassurance. "Really?"

Eileen hesitated and Essie, surprisingly, picked up on it almost immediately. With a wide grin, she said, "Yes. Things are just a little…" She paused a beat. " _Stressful_ ," finished Essie.

Calliope was not appeased. That, to her, was a cop-out of an answer. "How so?" she demanded.

Essie bit her lip and looked to Eileen, who made a noise of annoyance. "We're not going to talk about boring things like assignments and exams, Calliope," she chided. Hands on her hips, she said, "We're here to celebrate the new year with you."

Calliope began to pout. They weren't going to tell her. She was eleven now, but, to them, she was still a little girl. If she pushed any more, they'd just end up in a row and New Year's Eve would be ruined. "Okay," she grumbled.

Wringing her hands, Essie offered, "The flat smells lovely, what did you and Mrs. Mulpepper bake?"

Calliope smiled at her older sister. "Oh, you know, our favorites!" she answered, bounding forward and grabbing her hand. "Come on, let's go see!"

"See?" echoed Eileen, following after Calliope and Essie.

She looked back at her sister and nodded. "I set it all up for us on the table."

Eileen smiled at her. When they came into the Mulpeppers' kitchen, they all stopped in the doorway. The three of them stared at the spread of food she and Mrs. Mulpepper put together. It'd been Calliope's idea to use the two raised cake platters Mrs. Mulpepper had in addition to her china to make the food they cooked like a buffet at a fancy party. Beside her, Eileen murmured, "You were right. This is quite the array."

"Hello, girls," said Mrs. Mulpepper, coming up behind them. The three turned to see the old woman putting a pair of diamond earrings on.

"Hi, Mrs. Mulpepper," Eileen replied, looking the old woman up and down.

Smiling at her, Mrs. Mulpepper explained to Eileen and Essie, "Mr. Mulpepper and I are going to see my youngest brother and his wife for the evening. We will be a floo call away, all right?"

"Of course, thank you."

"Maise, are you ready?" called Mr. Mulpepper. Walking up next to his wife, he blinked, startled, to see Eileen and Essie past her shoulder. His surprise quickly faded, however, and he grinned. "Oh, good evening Essie, Eileen!" he said. "My how grown you two ladies look." Slipping past his wife, he gave first Eileen a hug, then one to Essie. When he pulled away from Calliope's sister, he kept a hand on Essie's arm and asked, "How is potions class going for you, Essie? Still at the top of your year?"

Essie nodded. "Yes, sir, I am."

"Good, good," he praised, giving her arm a squeeze. Eyes bright, he promised, "Keep that up and perhaps a summer job here at the apothecaries will be in your future."

"I would be very appreciative, sir," replied Essie, a flush of excitement adding color to her pallid cheeks.

Mrs. Mulpepper cleared her throat, drawing all of their attention to the old woman. She offered Calliope and her sisters a brief smile and then said to her husband, "I'm ready, Eugene. Just let me put on my shoes and we can go."

He nodded and let his hand fall away from Essie's arm. "Of course my dear."

The old woman reached forward to kiss the top of Calliope's head and then hug Eileen and Essie. "Have a good night, girls," she said.

"You too!" gushed Essie, still running on a high from Mr. Mulpepper's offer. The three of them then followed Mr. and Mrs. Mulpepper out of the kitchen and waved a farewell to them as they left the flat. Once they were gone, Calliopes' sisters turned toward her, wearing odd smirks.

She frowned. "What?" she demanded.

Her sisters exchanged a look before Eileen, suppressing laughter, said, "So, Calliope, we heard you've turned into a right mini-Darla."

She scowled and crossed her arms. "It was not the same."

"Really?" Eileen chortled, disbelieving. "You didn't sneak a little Muggle-born into the flat every day to play with?"

She gaped at the two. "Edie and Sev _told_ you?" she demanded, horrified that her parents would share the trouble she caused the Mulpeppers.

"Darla did, actually," Essie told Calliope, her smirk now a grin. She reached down and gave one of the plaits she had her hair in a playful pull. "She was terribly impressed!"

Calliope pouted at her sister. "That's not fair."

Essie dropped her plait and turned her palms toward the ceiling and shrugged at her. "Ah, that's Darla for you," she said.

She continued to glower and Eileen sighed. Taking a seat in Mr. Mulpepper's chair, she put her chin in her hands and asked, "So how do you and she get along now that you can only exchange letters?"

Essie clapped her hands, giddy in her agreement with Eileen. "Oh, yes!" she said. "Tell us everything," she demanded as she dropped down onto one end of the lounge room's sofa, causing it to creak.

She looked to her toes and said nothing.

"Calliope?" called Eileen, tone heavy with concern.

Fighting a shaking lip, she admitted to her sisters, "Sammy hasn't written to me once since the night she left."

"I'm sorry," whispered Essie, fingers reaching out and brushing over the knuckles of Calliope's hand.

She nodded and brought her hand to wipe away the tears emerging from her eyes. Sucking in a breath, she looked at Essie, and then at Eileen. "Aunt Maisie keeps reminding me she's got to be in a terribly bad place. She's separated from her parents, her sister is dead, and she's in hiding with people who are basically strangers," she explained. She forced a weak smile. "Sammy probably doesn't have the energy to write to me."

"…Mrs. Mulpepper may have a point," agreed Eileen after an uneasy silence.

Calliope said, new tears in her eyes, "I want her to be right."

"Oh, don't cry," begged Essie, dismayed. "Tonight is supposed to be fun!"

Fighting down a sob, Calliope covered her eyes. "I'm sorry! I'm just really, really _sad_."

Eileen sighed and when Calliope let her hands fall from her eyes it was to see Eileen standing next to her. "We understand," she assured Calliope, placing a gentle hand on the back of her neck. Looking at her feet, she chewed her lip before admitting, haltingly, "We… We had to give up a lot of things this year too."

Calliope nodded. She believed her sister. She'd heard they weren't allowed mates, not really, anyway, in case their friendship rubbed someone the wrong way. She sucked in a breath and said, "I know it's for everyone's sake, but I still hate it."

"It's okay," replied Eileen, leading them over to the sofa to sit down with Essie. Once the three of them were huddled close together on the sofa, Eileen reached beneath the collar of her blouse and pulled out a chain with two tiny jars. Inside them was a shimmery, blue-silver substance that had Calliope lean in nearer to inspect it. "Maybe you'd like this now, hm?" she suggested. "It's Sev's Christmas gift to you."

Calliope reached out to take them, but Eileen only gave her one before tucking the other back beneath the front of her dress. Staring down at the vial, she commented, "Edie said he'd give me something, but he wasn't going to owl it."

Her sister nodded and placed a hand over the top of Calliope's, covering the vial entirely. "Yes," she agreed, "because this is too precious for an owl to deliver."

"What… Is this?" asked Calliope, squinting down at their hands. While it was in a vial and she knew potions could come in all colors and consistencies, something told her what was in the vial was the farthest thing. She looked up at Eileen. "It's not a potion, is it?"

She shook her head and pulled her hand away to place it in her lap. "No, this is a memory."

"A memory?" she echoed, fascinated at the idea as she brought it beneath her nose to inspect more closely.

"He's given us all one at this point," supplied Essie as she pressed closer to Calliope. "Even Darla."

She twisted her head around to look at her sister. "What's it of?"

"Who knows? In my memory, we're brewing our first potion together," she explained, shrugging her shoulders.

"Mine is the first time I said his name to him," Eileen said.

"How do I look at it?" questioned Essie as she turned the vial over in her hands, wondering if there was a way to view it as it was right now in the vial.

Essie got to her feet and turned toward the kitchen. "The Mulpepper's have a large, shallow bowl don't they?"

"Yes, I think so," agreed Calliope as she sprung up. As Essie went for the kitchen, her and Eileen trailing behind, she felt compelled to stop her sister when she came into the kitchen to see her opening all of the cupboards. "Lemme," she demanded, getting between her sister and the cupboard she was rifling through. Reaching behind some measuring cups, she pulled out a rather oblong, but large serving bowl. "Here!" she said, handing it to Essie.

"Thank you," her sister said, placing it down on the countertop. Expression serious, she told her, "All right. Watch me, now Calliope. You have to be careful with memories."

She nodded. "Okay."

"If you would please give me the vial," she requested, hand outstretched. With easy trust, Calliope placed it in her sister's hand.

Awe-faced, she watched Essie carefully pour the memory into the dish. "Oh, wow," she breathed.

Essie grinned. "Yeah," she said in way of agreement. She tugged at Calliope's sleeve and brought her to stand directly in front of the dish. "Now," she instructed, "place your face in the memory."

She looked at her sister, surprised. "My face?" she repeated.

"It's safe," assured Essie. "Promise."

"Okay," she agreed, relenting. Taking a deep breath, Calliope plunged her face into the memory.

_It took a few seconds, but soon the world came to life around Calliope. She realized she was in her bedroom back at Hogwarts, though, it was not quite right. The room was off in little ways. There were more toys than books and bobs on the shelves and instead of there being two beds, there was one, Essie's, against one wall, and then a cot against the other._

_She frowned, trying to understand the memory she was seeing. It was clearly an old one from when she was a baby, but why had Severus thought to give her this one? Her view changed as Edie's voice called from the doorway, "They're ready fer yeh."_

_Calliope held back a gasp as Edie appeared, looking much younger than she had in years. On her hip was a baby Calliope! She was sucking on her fingers and her hair was damp and stuck to her head. Calliope's attention moved lower when she saw movement around her mum's legs. It didn't take her long to realize it was Essie. She was tinier than Calliope can ever remember her being and, like Calliope, her fringe stuck to her forehead, and the rest of her hair hung in clumps around her shoulders. Calliope squinted and realized that her nightie was one she almost certainly wore herself when she was that age._

_"Sev," Essie said. "I wanna hear about Phaethon again."_

_Her father chuckled and approached her, Edie, and Essie. Reaching down, he put a hand on Essie's head and guided her toward her bed. "Do you?" he said. "What about Eileen and Lottie?"_

_"It's my turn," Essie said. "I get to pick. They can cry, but I still wanna hear Phaethon."_

_Edie, who was shaking her head, said, "They_ will _cry. Lottie hates its ending."_

_Essie pouted severely and crossed her arms. Edie looked at Sev and sighed. "Take the baby," she told him. "Read 'em Phaethon an' I'll read the twins somethin' else."_

_"Are you sure?" asked Sev as he lifted Calliope off of Edie and began to cradle her against his chest. "I'm certain there is another story Essie would like just as much," he said._

_As Essie's face started to turn red like she might throw a strop and Edie nodded at Severus with a smile. "I don't mind," she assured him. "It'll be nice."_

_"Very well," agreed Sev. With that, he took a much less red-faced Essie by the hand and brought them over to her bed. While Essie settled herself beneath her covers, Severus picked up a familiar, but less worn out book of Greek Myths from the little table next to Essie's bed. Baby Calliope babbling in his arms, Severus sat down next to Essie and read to them the story of Phaethon. Calliope listened along with Essie and her baby-self, enjoying the chance to hear her dad's voice. It'd been ages since she last heard him speak. As the story came to an end and Essie yawned, Calliope wondered if this is why Sev gave her this memory. So she'd always be able to come and sit and listen to him tell this story when she missed him._

_However, she changed her mind when the memory continued. In it, Sev got to his feet and smoothed back Essie's hair to press a kiss to her forehead. Her sister smiled at Sev and mumbled, "Love you."_

_"And I you," he replied._

_His attention then turned to baby-Calliope, who scrubbed a tiny, damp fist across her eyes. Sev chortled and said, "Tired?"_

_Baby-Calliope didn't reply._

_He took her and laid her down in her cot. He then reached down to the end of the cot opposite Calliope and brought over to her side No-Ears (though, right now, he still had an ear). Sev told her, "Sleep well."_

_"Lub," babbled baby-Calliope between drooping eyes. "Lub Sev."_

_There was a bit of silence followed by Sev whispering, "What was that?"_

_Baby-Calliope, clearly asleep already, did not answer Sev. Instead, from behind him, Essie's little voice piped up and said, "She said she loves you."_

_One of Sev's hands reached down and took hold of one of Calliope's small fists. Stroking the baby's tiny fingers he murmured, "I love you too."_

Calliope pulled her face from the make-shift Pensieve, gasping, and with tears in her eyes.

"Oh, dear," fussed Essie, reaching over the bowl with the memory to push Calliope's damp hair off her face. "What was the memory, Calliope?"

"I was a baby," she whispered, "I told him I loved him."

"That's a lovely memory Sev gave you," Eileen said, causing her to jump.

She turned around to face her older sister. It'd been a surprise to receive such a memory, but she had to agree. "Yeah, it really was," she said.

Eileen smiled and took Calliope's hand in her own. Squeezing her fingers, she said to both her and Essie, "Come one, let's eat some of this food you and Mrs. Mulpepper made for tonight."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading and let me know your thoughts with a comment and/or kudo :)


	11. Always Sending, (Nearly) Never Receiving

_ Sammy, _

_ I’m assured you’re getting these letters — if a little late at times. As with the last, I have little to report about my corner of the world. I suppose it’s nearly Valentine’s day now, but I’m not doing anything interesting besides drawing the Mulpeppers some pictures. Eileen says my skills are getting better. She also says my shading needs a lot of work, though. I’ve been doing endless pictures of apples at different times of the day to improve. I hope the Mulpeppers appreciate it. _

_ The Mulpeppers says the apothecaries are busy right now. The winter leads more people to take up hobby brewing, you see. What do Muggles do in the winter to make it pass faster? You said once the closest thing to potions brewing in the Muggle-world is chemistry mixing, but that’s not an at-home activity for most people. _

_ I know better now than to write I hope to hear you are well, but I do hope you are, if only physically.  _

_ Love, _

_ Calliope _

-o-O-o-

_ Sammy, _

_ It’s going to be the first day of spring in another week! I’m very excited. If the weather isn’t too poorly, the Mulpeppers promised a trip to the sweet shop in Diagon Alley. Essie is far too busy preparing for OWLs to visit me as of late, but Eileen stopped by for a couple of hours last Saturday. She didn’t look very good. Her jaw had an old, yellow bruise running along the right side and she rubbed her forehead like she had a migraine whenever she didn’t think I was watching.  _

_ I’m worried about her. I don’t know what’s happening at Hogwarts, but I think someone is hurting her. Her and Essie. I wonder how that can be sometimes. Sev’s headmaster and I know that’s a very important job and all, but he still must sleep in the quarters and see my mum. I know Edie and Eileen often have tea together too. So you’d think she would say something to him and he would do something to make those hurting my sisters stop. He doesn’t, though. It scares me a lot. Who is it hurting them he can’t stop it? Or does he not care? I know you can’t have any better ideas than me, but I wish you’d tell me your opinion still.  _

_ How silly of me to write that. I should just cross that out. I know you won’t. _

_ I’ve gotten a letter from Darla. She says baby Severus is sitting up very well these days and looks at her when she says his name. Darla promises I will see her soon. April, probably. I can’t wait. I haven’t seen him since you and the Whittakers went into hiding together. She also told me a little about Emmett when I asked. She says she remembers him being a member of the Chudley Cannons club. Maybe, if you’d like, you could talk to him about it. You might think it’s boring since the Chudley Cannons are a quidditch team, but he will probably enjoy telling you about them. It would be a way to pass the time. _

_ I know I’m quite bored most of the time and it’s only because my family keeps making visits I haven’t become a part of the Mulpeppers’ sofa. _

_ Love, _

_ Calliope _

-o-O-o-

_ Sammy, _

_ Before anything else! Happy birthday. You’re twelve now. I know you probably aren’t in much of a mood for celebrating, but I’m including a picture I drew as a gift. It’s of the two of us of brewing a potion. I used some photos of us for reference when I drew it. I hope you like it. _

_ For April first I cut my hair short like a boy. At first, when Mrs. Mulpepper came home, she didn’t believe me and thought I was trying to prank her. Was she surprised when she came into the kitchen and saw I wasn’t! Mrs. Mulpepper wanted to make me take a hair-growing potion, but I wouldn’t do it. There’s so little change from day-to-day, not having to comb and plait and tie up my hair all of the time takes away a bit of the humdrum.  _

_ Mr. Mulpepper said it was a good look on me and brought out his camera and snapped a photo. I expect he’ll develop it and send it off to my parents soon. Edie will probably be a bit cross. She likes my hair long because she says it's such a pretty color. I don’t think I agree. I’d rather have magenta hair or something. Like those punk people you saw on your telly you mentioned before? I think they sound wicked. It’s pointless to ask, but if you could change your hair color, what would you make yours, Sammy? I think green would be smashing on you. Then you’d probably want to be sorted into Slytherin at Hogwarts. That’s their color, remember? If you were in a different house, they may not think you’re very loyal. _

_ Next week, at the start of May, my mum says she will come and take me out for a trip to Diagon Alley. We’re going to get my wand. It’s going to be months before I’m allowed to use it, but she thinks it’s important I have it now instead of later. _

_ I feel I should apologize. I haven’t written to you until now this month. You probably didn’t notice, since you never reply, but I promised myself months ago I wouldn’t let that stop me from writing. Being a good friend means reaching out, means not giving up, means offering what help you can. I haven’t been doing that. I’m sorry.  _

_ Love,  _

_ Calliope _

-o-O-o-

_ My dad is dead _

-o-O-o-

_ Sammy, _

_ Before I say anything else, I feel like I should apologize for not writing so long after I promised to do better. It’s going to be the first week of August in three days. As you can imagine, a lot has happened since I last wrote to you in May. I moved back to Hogwarts with my mum and sisters after the grounds and castle were cleaned up a little from the battle. Darla and baby Severus are staying with us right now too. There’s quite the story behind them living with us as well.  _

_ About two weeks after the battle, after the war was over, Darla dropped off baby Severus and left to take care of some “business”. When she came back, she started talking about packing up her flat and leaving for Australia on the first floo connection she could get. Edie and my sisters tried to talk her out of it. You probably already realize, but it wouldn’t have been clever leaving now while her baby is so little to someplace she knows no one. Who would help her? In the end, Darla was being too stubborn to listen to them and they called for Harry to help. _

_ Harry convinced her. I don’t know how he did it, but he did and we’re all so grateful. Now, Darla’s promised to at least stay until late next summer. She’ll have finished her Healer training at St. Mungo’s by then and Severus will be almost two. Edie says if I like, I can go with Darla to help her settle in. I think I will. I’ve never been out of the country before. _

_ It may not matter, but when we start at Hogwarts in September, you’ll only see Eileen around in the passageways. Essie decided she wasn’t coming back to school. Edie and she rowed about it for weeks, but Essie refuses to be a student any longer. She wants to go straight to work with the Mulpeppers in their apothecaries instead. She wants to learn the ins and outs of them so she can take over sooner rather than later. They aren’t getting younger, you know? Witches and wizards typically live a long time, but the Mulpeppers deserve to enjoy their twilight years. Or at least that’s what Essie says. _

_ I think she wants to get away from Hogwarts. I don’t blame her. Sev isn’t haunting the castle, but sometimes I feel as if I’ll see him when I turn a corner or walk into some classroom. It’s probably for the best. She’ll move into my old room in the Mulpeppers’ flat, learn everything there is about running apothecaries, and on the weekends we can visit her in Hogsmeade. _

_ Edie seems to be doing well enough. When I was little, after Lottie died, Edie sort of closed herself off in her bedroom for the whole summer after. With Sev, I don’t think she’s had the time to wallow. The castle was in pretty bad shape after the battle and it’s been an all-hands-on-deck sort of situation. She’s been helping with fixing that and cleaning this pretty much every day. Lately, she’s also begun to learn a little bit about the library and how to run it from Madam Pince, the librarian. Madam Pince wants to retire in another year after things settle and Professor, well, she’s Headmistress now, McGonagall has offered Edie the job of replacing her. She accepted if you couldn’t tell. _

_ As for Eileen, slips away sometimes. I don’t know where it is she goes. Essie does I think (not that she will tell me). Sometimes, I suspect, If Edie had decided to wallow in her bed instead of help fix the castle and train to be the new librarian, Eileen would have given up on school like Essie. She would have just have disappeared one day and never come home without warning. As for me… I would be very lonely, I think. I’d wander Hogwarts waiting for the school year to start so I could be staying in a dorm with others instead of our empty quarters. _

_ I’m glad it’s not like that.  _

_ Anyway, speaking of the start of the school year, what house do you think you will be in? Darla keeps telling me I’ll be a Slytherin. I was very sneaky, finding a way to bring you into the Mulpeppers flat and for never letting anything slip to anyone until I wanted it to. She says that sort of cunning makes me a prime candidate. Essie argues that it was bravery that had me inviting you over again and again in spite of the dangers and that it means I will be a Gryffindor like her. I’m not sure I care where I go. I just want to see you again. If I could, I’d like to be in whatever house you are so we can be together. _

_ Love, _

_ Calliope _

-o-O-o-

_ Sammy, _

_ I see you’re still not writing to me. I know it probably isn’t fair to you, but I’m very cross. I’ve been so patient and understanding! But I told you my bloody dad is dead and you couldn’t even bother to write me one word! I called you my best mate. I said I love you. I treated you like one of my sisters… _

_ Do you hate me now? Is that why you haven’t written me back ever? You said you didn’t blame me for being a Death-Eater’s daughter, but is that not true anymore? Even though my Death-Eater father proved during the battle he’d been on the Order’s side all along? Do you hate me for getting to stay with people who love me? For having family close by who could visit me? What is it I did? I just want to understand what went wrong. Please, Sammy, write me  _ something _. _

_ Love, _

_ Calliope _

-o-O-o-

_ Sammy, _

_ This will be my last letter to you. We start school in two weeks. I will be doing my shopping with my mum, sisters, and baby Severus tomorrow. We’ll be having lunch at the Leaky Cauldron. I can’t give an exact time, but it will be a late one I imagine. Around one, maybe even two, so we can eat with Darla during her break from work. Since you won’t reply to my letters, you probably don’t want to see me, but if you did, that’s a sure place and time you can bump into me. _

_ Sincerely, _

_ Calliope _

-o-O-o-

_ Sammy, _

_ I lied. This is my last letter. It’s not much of one, I admit. I just wanted to let you know. I’ve decided. Tomorrow, I will be sorted into Slytherin like Darla, like my dad. I think it will make my mum the proudest. _

_ Calliope _

-o-O-o-

_ Calliope, _

_ I’m going to be in Hufflepuff like Amber. It will make Emmett Happiest. _

_ Love,  _

_ Sammy _


	12. A Sorting and a Reunion

The morning of, Calliope decided against riding the Hogwarts Express to school like the rest of the students. The reply she received from Sammy had left her anxious and she needed time to sort through her thoughts and feelings. Riding the train, where she could run into Sammy, would not have helped her. Instead, Calliope paced Hogwarts’ passageways, considering what had been written to her.

It’d been a very short message. Yet she was choosing where she wanted to go because of Emmett. That must mean she bonded with him during those long, bleak days she was in hiding with him, right? Calliope had to assume so.

She’d signed her letter _love_ Sammy too. Did that mean she still felt like Calliope was a friend? Wanted to be her best mate again? 

There had been many things missing from the letter as well. Explanations. Apologies. She’d shown it to Eileen because Calliope had been in too much shock to really make sense of what she was seeing. Her sister had suggested that perhaps the missing pieces would come later. In-person even.

Calliope both hoped and dreaded for that moment.

She also feared what would happen if they never came. What if Sammy tried to pretend the letters never happened? That she hadn’t ignored Calliope for months and months on end after they’d decided they were best mates? What then? Was Calliope just supposed to go along with it? Or was she supposed to demand her deserved explanations and apologies?

Even worse, what if Sammy refused to give them? Did that mean their friendship was done and dusted? It had to. Calliope came to an abrupt stop in her pacing and grabbed at the front of her shirt. Staring down at her feet, she prayed to whoever was in charge of people that Sammy wouldn’t do that to her.

“Oh! Calliope. My, you gave me a start,” said Professor Vector with a chuckle.

Calliope stared at the just older than middle-aged witch. “Sorry,” she said after a belated pause.

The woman waved it away and came closer to Calliope. She smiled down at her, chestnut eyes warm and kind. “Are you getting nervous, chick?” she asked.

Slowly, she nodded.

“There’s no need to be,” assured Professor Vector. “Your dad wouldn’t have cared where you were sorted. He just wants you to be in the house most suited to you.”

Calliope bit back the ‘I know’ on her tongue. It wasn’t the professor’s fault she didn’t know the _real_ reason Calliope was nervous. Only her family, the Mulpeppers, and Whittakers probably did. Instead, she lifted her chin and smiled at the witch. “Thank you, Professor Vector.”

She gave the top of Calliope’s head a gentle pat. “Run along, now,” she urged. “You ought to put on your school robes. Your new yearmates will be here in a little over a half an hour.

“Right,” she said. Waving at the witch, Calliope ran off back in the direction of her family’s quarters. “Thank you!”

-o-O-o-

Calliope should have kept to the back of the crowd of first-years, given her surname, but she didn’t. Instead, she stood among the Fs and Gs and Hs waiting to be sorted. Calliope hadn’t wanted to be in the back in case she bumped into Sammy. Though, that may have been an unfounded fear. Their year was going to be an unusually large one. There were probably a little less than an extra dozen students getting sorted this year. A couple of them were Muggle-borns like Sammy she bet, but most were children whose families found ways to fake them being too ill to go to Hogwarts. Or had the money, means, and connections to fudge their children’s’ records and make them look a year younger than they were on paper.

She side-eye the children on either side of her. On her left was a tall girl with a head of braids. Her right, an average looking brunet boy. They may be eleven, like her, or they could be twelve, but it didn’t change that most of them were not half as starry-eyed as their predecessors during their sorting. They’d lost family, friends, homes, seen things some went lifetimes never witnessing, their sense of safety and security was shaken. 

They’d already heard stories whispered on the Express and from older siblings, mates, and neighbors over the summer about the last year at Hogwarts. They knew the castle was no safe haven. If they weren’t careful, it could turn right back into what it was under the hands of the Carrows. 

Calliope curled her hands into fists. She hoped if things went backward, instead of forward, she wouldn’t be a student. She didn’t know if she would be strong enough to withstand people like the Carrows. Calliope wasn’t half as strong as her sisters.

Slowly, she watched the children around her go up to the stool and have the Sorting Hat placed on their head by Headmistress McGonagall. Finally, the witch looked to her list and then, up, eyes seeking. Calliope was unsurprised when they landed on her.

“Calliope Snape!”

There was a small hush that came over the Great Hall as she walked up to the stool. Sitting down on it, Calliope raised her chin and placed her hands on her knees and peered out at the student body. They stared back at her with solemn, watching faces. They all knew who her dad was. What he’d done. That he was dead.

They wanted to know if she was like him. If she was a Slytherin. Calliope almost smiled. She’d show just how alike she and her dad were soon enough. Slowly, her eyes meandered away from the students as the hat was placed on her head. Before it covered her eyes, among the small crowd of remaining first-years waiting to be sorted she spied Sammy. Her friend looked quite different. Her once round cheeks were thin and her fringe had grown out, leaving her birthmark visible to everyone. Sammy’s lips quirked with the start of a grin, but her study was cut short when the hat purred:

“ _Well, who do we have here? You’re his daughter, hm?”_

For the next couple of minutes, the hat attempted to persuade her to Gryffindor, even Hufflepuff, but Calliope refused. Every time it tried to argue, she’d hiss beneath her breath, “Slytherin.” 

Finally, it gave an exasperated sigh and said, “ _If you’re so certain, then you better be…_ SLYTHERIN!”

The Slytherin table erupted with cheers as Headmistress McGonagall plucked the hat from her head. There hadn’t been too many sorted to Slytherin this evening. Just three boys and four girls before her. If they were lucky, they’d get a couple of more boys to even things out. As she walked toward her new table, she smiled at her new housemates. They were proud to have her. _Severus Snape’s_ youngest.

“Sit over here,” urged a black-haired sixth or seventh-year girl. She wore a broad grin as Calliope accepted her offer and sat in the spot next to her. “We’re so glad to have you,” she said to Calliope, reaching up and squeezing her shoulder. “Neither of your sisters were sorted to Slytherin, so we weren’t sure.” She laughed and pulled Calliope flush against her side. “But now!” Dark brown eyes glittering like river stone, the upper-year promised, “We’ll celebrate tonight.”

Calliope smiled politely and nodded. “Thank you,” she said. Then, glancing toward the sorting hat and stool, she said, “If you don’t mind, I would like to watch the rest of the sorting. My— A girl I know is still waiting to be placed in her house.”

The older girl let Calliope go. “Of course,” she agreed, still looked chuffed. “Maybe she’ll be a Slytherin too?”

“I don’t think so,” replied Calliope as she watched a boy dart off for the hooting and hollering Gryffindor table. Headmistress McGonagall glanced once more at her list, and then at the last five children waiting to be sorted. 

“Samantha Vickers,” she intoned.

Sammy brushed past a boy in front of her and walked up to the stool. When she sat down, her eyes flickered over to Slytherin’s table. Calliope smiled at the other girl, hoping she would feel encouraged. The upper half of her face then disappeared beneath the brim of the hat and a silence fell over the Great Hall. Thankfully, it did not last long as a minute later, the hat roared out:

“HUFFLEPUFF!”

Calliope clapped loudly for Sammy as the hat was taken from her head and the girl made a beeline for her new house’s table. Into her ear, the older girl murmured, “That was your mate, wasn’t it?”

She didn’t know if Sammy was still her friend, but she nodded anyway. “Yes,” she answered.

“You really are carrying on the Snape legacy, aren’t you?” she remarked, sounding mildly amused, but impressed too. “I heard your dad was friends with a Gryffindor as a student. Your aunt, Darla, is still pretty fresh in peoples’ memories too. She had a Hufflepuff mate.”

Calliope couldn’t say why, but she felt proud. She was just like them. Smirking at her housemate, she said, “Yeah, I’m just like them.”

The older girl laughed. “That’s brilliant,” she assured her. “I’m Eva Wang, by the way.”

She gave her housemate her hand to shake. “Calliope Snape,” she said, only to giggle. “But you know that.”

The upper-year, Wang, only shrugged one of her shoulders. “Not a problem,” she said as she shook Calliope’s hand. “I’m happy to make your acquaintance. I’m a prefect, by the way.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” she said, still smiling at Wang, her new friend(?).

-o-O-o-

“This way to the Slytherin dorms!” called Wang as she led the small gaggle of Slytherins out of the Great Hall and in the direction of the dungeons. Calliope walked with them as far as the doorway before she separated herself from the group. She knew her way to the dungeons and Slytherin dorms. Sev had taken her there a few times over the years and she’d visited Darla on occasion when she was a student too. Standing outside the Great Hall, she bounced impatiently on her feet for the Hufflepuff prefects to lead their first years out of the hall. 

Thankfully, it was only a couple of minutes before a pair of prefect boys appeared, their dozen new Hufflepuff housemates between them. Gaze leaping from new face to new face, it only took a minute for her to recognize the more familiar one of Sammy toward the middle-back of the group. Weaving into the mass of Hufflepuffs, she grabbed the sleeve of the girl and drew her out of it under the noses of her prefects. Once they were together, she found she was at a loss of what to say. How did someone put to words the hurt, anger, fear, and hope she was experiencing?

Sammy, however, didn’t seem to have the same problem as her. “Hi,” she said, keeping her eyes fixed on Calliope’s chin. “It’s been a while.”

“It has,” agreed Calliope after an awkward amount of time, having realized a little too late that Sammy wanted her to respond and wasn’t just talking to find a way to begin the necessary conversation.

Sammy’s eyes jumped up to Calliope’s before falling back to her chin. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I’ve been a bloody terrible friend to you.”

Calliope swallowed the lump in her throat. She wanted to cry, it seemed this wasn’t going to be the end of their friendship like she feared. “Thanks,” she croaked.

“I shouldn’t have been such a…” Sammy trailed off and shook her head, seemingly deciding against whatever descriptor she’d been about to use for herself. She placed a hand on her chest with light, heartfelt thump. “Everything that happened, it was my fault, okay? You didn’t do _anything_ wrong.”

She wanted to believe her mate, but doubt nagged at her. “Are you sure?” Calliope asked. She searched Sammy’s face, even though she still wouldn’t meet her gaze, for a tell of lying. “If I did do something wrong, I would like to know so I don’t do it again.”

Wildly, Sammy shook her head. “No, you were great!” she exclaimed a little too loudly. It drew the attention of some Ravenclaw third years walking out the Great Hall’s entrance and Calliope waved, letting the duo know things were okay. As for Sammy, she blushed and let her hair fall into her face to hide her embarrassment. 

Calliope sighed at her reaction and grabbed her mate’s sleeve. Pulling at her, she took them a little bit further down the corridor to just behind a column. “What exactly happened?” she asked bluntly, unable to stop herself. Calliope probably should have built up to it, but she was still cross with Sammy even after her apology. She wanted answers _now_.

Sammy exhaled again and pushed her hair back behind her ears. “After I was told Amber was dead, I just didn’t want to… exist, I guess. I spent a lot of time just laying in my bed in my room in the seaside cottage we were hiding in. Emmett brought me all your letters and read them to me. I wouldn’t tell him what to write back, so, he just didn’t reply. He also talked a lot about Amber, Hogwarts, his mom…” she bit her lip, and Calliope nodded, urging her friend on. 

It seemed Mrs. Mulpepper has been right. Sammy hadn’t _meant_ to be so rude. She’d simply been too sad to keep up with Calliope. It was something of a relief even though she felt a little sad Sammy couldn’t even pull out of it for a minute to send an “I’m sorry” after her own loss.

Encouraged by her reaction, Sammy continued, “Little by little I started feeling more like myself. Then Christmas came and I realized I wouldn’t get to see my family and Amber was dead and I fell apart again. It took months for me to get back to where I was. When I did…” she trailed off and looked down to her toes and whispered, “You wrote your dad was dead.” She dragged her eyes up and stared at Calliope with pleading, desperate eyes. “I didn’t know what to say. You’d written such lovely things after Amber died and I felt everything I had to say to you felt like rubbish in comparison. Emmett told me even saying ‘I’m sorry’ would mean the world to you, but I just couldn’t! That’s not enough for what you went through.” 

Sammy stopped then and sucked in a shaky breath and smoothed her hands down her skirt. When she seemed to have regained her composure, she continued, “Emmett started helping me craft something better, but then Order members came and said it was safe for us to leave. I got sent home, away from Emmett, and I meant to try to finish my letter to you and send it, but…” Her eyes darkened and a scowl marred her face. “I lost the time to my parents wouldn’t leave me alone for a second. They wanted to do fun stuff as a ‘family’ now that I was back. It made me really cross, you know? They knew Amber had died, but they didn’t act sad. Not even my dad for a second! All of the things they dragged me to do, I would have loved before. Now, though, all I could think was how we never did fun stuff as a family with Amber. I will never get the chance to because of my parents either.”

Sammy looked away then and explained, “I decided to run away at the start of July. I went to the Whittakers’ shop. Mrs. Hagar was there trying to fix it up with a couple of wizards. She couldn’t believe I’d come back. I had to beg a bit, but she agreed to let me see Emmett. I talked to him and he said I could stay with them, but we had to tell my parents.”

Eyes going wide, Sammy crossed her arms and leaned back on her heels. “I’m sure you can imagine what a mess _that_ was.”

Calliope tried searching Sammy’s face for what happened next but could find no answer. So, she asked, “Did they say yes?”

Sammy nodded. “They didn’t have much of a choice,” she admitted. “I mean, I just said I would keep running away until the school year started and see them never again if I could.”

“Oh, Sammy,” murmured Calliope, not sure how she felt about the bitter words coming from her friend.

She seemed to understand as she winced. “I know,” she whispered, “I was being really awful.”

Hesitantly, Calliope asked, “Did you stay away the rest of the summer?”

“I visited a few times, mostly to see my brother,” she answered. “Mostly I just helped Mrs. Hagar with fixing up her shop. Emmett tried to do things where he could too, but he tires easily and then he gets his tremors, which means he can’t help anymore.” A speculative purse to her lips, she remarked, almost to herself more than Calliope, “Maybe I’ll see them more next summer. I think I want to stay at Hogwarts for the Christmas hols.”

In spite of the reason for it, Calliope couldn’t help but smile. “Really?” she said. “If you do you can stay in my family’s quarters with me! We’ll have a wicked time!”

Sammy grinned. “I’d love to!” she said before her smile fell and regret took over her features. “You want me in your home even after how I behaved before?”

Calliope nodded and leaned in to wrap her arms around Sammy. “You apologized,” she said in way of reassurance. “That means so much to me.”

Sammy hugged her back. Almost too strongly. “Thank you, Calliope,” she mumbled. “Thank you.”

She pulled back after a moment and met her best mate’s eyes. “This is what friends do, Sammy. You don’t abandon them because they’re going through a bad spell.” 

A strange intensity overcame Sammy’s features as she brought her hands up from around Calliope’s waist to rest them on either side of her face. “No matter what, you will always be my best friend, okay? We could have no classes together later, make more friends, join different clubs, grow up, marry men who hate each other, have families, one of us could even move to Timbuktu, but when somebody asks me, I will _always_ say you’re my best mate.”

She blinked. Then, Calliope smiled. Soon, tears gathered in her eyes and she started to cry. Sammy, confused and upset, clutched her face more tightly and asked, “Oh no, what did I do?”

Calliope shook her head, throwing off Sammy’s hands. Bringing her arms up, she threw them around her best friend’s neck and pressed their cheeks together. “The very best thing!” she sobbed. “You promised me we’ll always be friends.”

Sammy began to cry too and it was as they were wailing together, an upper-year Gryffindor, who’d most likely been on his way to his dorm or the Owlery, found them. Scratching the soft whiskers of his first beard, he stared at them and their blotchy faces a moment before asking, “Do I need to get you two a professor?”

Calliope shook her head and extracted herself from Sammy. “No,” she said. “We’re okay.”

The upper-year didn’t look convinced and crossed his arms. He glanced at Sammy. “You were one of the last kids sorted,” he remarked. “Hufflepuff, right?”

“Y-Yes,” she hiccuped.

His expression was more severe when he looked at Calliope. “She’s not… _done_ anythin’ to you, right?”

“No!” cried Sammy, indignant. Grabbing Calliope’s hand, she declared, “We’re best friends forever!”

The Gryffindor put up his hands in both defense and a placating gesture. “Sorry,” he said. “If that’s the case, I’m just goin’ to…” he pointed down the corridor, away from them, “leave.”

“You better,” huffed Sammy, glowering up at him.

As the Gryffindor walked away, Calliope heard him grumble to himself, “…last time I talk to cryin’ firsties.”

She burst into giggles and so did Sammy once she looked at Calliope. As they stood side-by-side, faces tear-streaked, but smiling at each other, Calliope felt happier certain than she had in a very long time. Life would be imperfect, but Sammy was hers and she was Sammy’s. Together, as best friends, they would make it through anything and be happy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The end of this one! Thanks for reading and please let me know your thoughts with a comment and/or kudo :)


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